


Wandering In-Between

by winwinnie



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Car Accidents, Drowning, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hyejoo can time travel, Minor Character Death, Non permanent character death, School Shootings, and kind of groundhog day, inspired by butterfly i was well shook, loosely inspired by BTS's Save Me, this got... kinda dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:51:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 25,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18121079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winwinnie/pseuds/winwinnie
Summary: Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something. A pale face, lacy skirts, eyes so wide and so kind. A flash of blonde hair.Just for a second, a mirage among the rest of the students clambering towards the windows like one singular mass. Just for a second, and then she's gone.A second isn't enough.She wants more.But Hyejoo's hand is already at her wrist, her fingers already pulling at the loose thread. The ribbon is already shifting, the fabric of time melting between her fingers like soft wax.





	1. Introduction: The Ribbon

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from butterfly by loona, because it is possibly the greatest song i have ever heard
> 
> the numbers are from the order that the girls are revealed, so hopefully that isn't too confusing.

Twelve is alone in the bedroom. She sits on her bed, the last in the long line of ones that are identical in every way, and thinks.

The white walls seem to press in around her.

The ceiling seems to shift every time she looks up.

The room seems a lot smaller, now that it's empty.

Twelve sits among the row of beds, and she thinks. Around her, on one side the walls stretch out for ages, on the other a wall stops the endlessly repeating scene. There are no beds opposite her, only to her left. Eleven's, then Ten's, then Nine's, and so on, all the way to One's, right at the other end of the room. Despite the distance, there's no difference between them either.

In reality, the only reason they know whose is whose is from years and years of muscle memory, and the tiny number inked above the right bedpost.

The tiny number that matches the one printed on the inside of her left wrist. L

Four used to complain all the time. She'd say there was no individuality, the they couldn't express themselves. She'd throw tantrum after tantrum, and attempt to paint her bedposts bright orange, only to find the next day that it was back to being identical to how it was before.

Twelve doesn't think that particularly matters now. Four isn't here.

But then again, neither is anyone else.

She shifts, and immediately regrets it. The pristine sheets on her bed are now crumpled, and she'll never manage to get them as neat again. It only makes it stand out more, something lived in amongst what hasn't been touched for months now.

Months.

She glances to the bed next to her, and ignores the way her heart aches. It still feels like only days since she last saw Eleven, since the girl last smiled at her and made Twelve's heart skip a beat. It feels like only seconds since Twelve was told that Eleven wouldn't be returning. That it was just her, and a row of empty beds from that moment onward.

She misses Eleven.

In fact, she misses them all. The loneliness is often overwhelming, and she finds herself wishing to go back to happier times, when the room with filled with sound and laughter and happiness.

Back to a time before One disappeared, before Two left to go after her.

Before it was just Twelve and an row of beds.

That's why she has to do what she's going to do.

She glances at the door by One's bed once, even though she knows it will be shut. For such a huge risk, it wouldn't be worth making such a simple mistake. Then she looks back down at the ribbon tied around her wrist.

It's a deep silver, almost black in its darkness, and a soft silk that's never left a mark against her skin. It's tied on with a double knot- something far too important to lose- and the very corner of one side is slightly frayed.

She runs her finger over the soft fabric one last time.

Twelve has never been the most outgoing. She's never been as energetic as Two or Ten, never as loud as four, or as mesmerising as Nine or Six. Even Five was more sociable, joining in whenever she felt confident enough to speak.

No. Twelve has always been Twelve, quiet and awkward, more content with staying in the corner than play-fighting with the others.

But Eleven was always by her side. No matter what happened, Eleven was the for her, there to hold her hand and tell her to stand up for herself. Maybe that's why Twelve feels she has to do this. To do something for Eleven, to repay her kindness for once.

With that thought on her mind, the pulls the frayed edge of the ribbon, hard, and lets her surroundings melt away.

———

" _Twelve!" Eleven calls, making her way so_ _delicately_ _across the room that Twelve almost can't_ _believe_ _she's a real person, and not a porcelain doll, "Have you decided yet?"_

_Her voice is high_ _, full of an excitement that seems almost out of place,_ _and she sounds so genuinely interested that Twelve has no choice but to shuffle along on the sofa, making room for the other girl to sit down. She beams as she does, smoothing out her skirts and kicking up her feet," Well? "_

_Twelve looks at Eleven. They way the other girl actually seems to care about her. Yes, Twelve has decided, but she still doesn't know if it fits quite right. Nothing's ever perfect and this is the kind of thing that she doesn't want to make a mistake with._

_But she doesn't think Eleven would care. Eleven would never mind if she decided against it, she'd never judge Twelve or call her childish. So Twelve opens her mouth, and out comes spilling all the secrets she'd been waiting to tell._

_"Hyejoo,"  She says, and as soon as the name leaves her mouth, she knows it right. It fits like a perfectly, and she can see in Eleven's face that she thinks so as well. "My name is Hyejoo."_


	2. One: The First Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theres probably going to be at least one mention of character death per chapter - but Do Not Worry, none of it is permanent 
> 
> BUT JUST TO BE SAFE:  
> tw for a teeny mention of blood and a not really described car crash

Twelve wakes up on a bed. It should be unsurprising, considering that she was on a bed only three seconds ago, but she can't help but look around in wonder.

This is not the bed she was on three seconds ago.

This bed has dark grey sheets, softer than any she's ever felt before, and two fluffy pillows in a matching colour at the head. The posts are a shade of silver that reflects the light from the open window to her left, and they're covered in tiny stickers of various cartoon characters. She doesn't recognise them, but by the way the edges peel of the wood, they've had to have been there for quite some time.

It's the only bed in the room.

Gone are the white walls, gone is the row of identical cots, gone is the camera in the corner of the ceiling staring at her like an unblinking eye.

Gone is the room she'd never left before, and here is a place that's undoubtedly hers.

She's never seen anything quite like it.

The room is for one person, a sense of privacy that she's never experienced before beginning to settle in, and her heart flutters when she takes in what could have been.

The grey walls don't quite match the bedsheets, and there are still piles of once-worn clothes discarded on the floor. Posters with torn edges surround her from where they've been badly sellotaped, pop stars grinning down from half-lidded eyes ringed with too much eyeliner.

There's a whole wardrobe of clothes to one side, and she can't quite stop her mouth from falling open when she pulls open the door. There's so many clothes.

Twelve has only ever had one outfit before.

It was identical to the ones the rest of the girls wore; a plain white cotton t-shirt, and loose-fitting trousers or frilly skirt. Every single day, they'd wake up and the pile would be waiting for them, sitting neatly folded at the bottom of their beds. They'd shrug off their matching white pyjamas, and pull on the clothes mindlessly.

They didn't have a choice.

But now... Now Twelve has more than she could ever dream of.

Eleven would love it.

The other girl floated around, making even the dull clothes they were given look beautiful. She managed to make them look like something that a princess would wear, not a prisoner. She could spin and dance, and effortlessly replicate the same graceful air that Nine carried (even if Twelve thought was the pale colour suited Eleven much more).  She'd be so excited to see such a huge array of choices.

It's that thought that gets Twelve to straighten up.

She isn't here to marvel at clothes.

Turning to her left, she runs her hand down the wall. One final test, one way to make sure that her mind isn't deceiving her. To make sure this isn't a cruel trick, that she won't wake up come morning.

The paint doesn't come off in her hand, and the wall is almost unbearably cold under her clammy palm.

It's real.

Of course it is.

Around her wrist, a single thread trails of the edge of the ribbon. The once neat end is frayed, ruining the image of perfection she'd worked so hard to maintain. But that only confirms what she'd hoped.

It worked.

It _actually_ _worked_.

She'd actually managed to do it, and although maybe a tiny part of her already knows that, the rest her body can't quite process the shock. She isn't in the Room any more. Shy, awkward Twelve had actually done it.

She grins, half a second away from actually punching the air in glee, before she remembers that she's here for a reason. That there's no time to waste, that every second that slips by could be the decision between life and death.

Pulling off her silk (silk!) pyjamas, she throws on a mixture of clothes from the wardrobe. Dark, of course, a colour that she's always preferred over the blinding white of her bed, or the endless colours of the walls and ceilings. She isn't there any more, and she can where whatever colour she likes.

(Four would love it, she thinks guiltily. In fact, they all would.)

There's a crash, as she realises in her haste to pull on a shiny pair of black boots, she's stepped backwards into a desk. The entire wooden frame moves with her weight, and a few sheets of paper flutter down into the floor. She moves instinctively to grab them.

It's drilled into her mind from the forever cleanliness of the Room, the judging stares for causing any sort of mess. And Twelve has always been clumsy, tripping over her own feet more often than not.

She moves, and as soon as she does, she can hear the rip in her skirt before it actually happens.

The papers just brush her fingertips, as she stays frozen in place. Her leg is already beginning to ache.

It's a bright kind of pain.

It makes her open her eyes more, shakes some sense into her head. The rush of adrenaline through her body is sweet, in a messed up kind of way. She can already feel that the wound is damp, and when she presses her fingers to the cotton of her tights, it comes back stained with a coppery shade of red she's only seen a few times before.

It _hurts_.

She runs her finger over the nail that she'd caught her leg on, and pushes it over her skirt slightly, matching up the size of the hole to the jagged metal. She doesn't know how she hadn't noticed it before, but there's no time to waste wondering about things that have already happen.

Not when she's here to change the course of the future.

She makes her way out of her room, not even pausing to wipe the blood off of her fingers. The rest of the house is thankfully empty, and she grabs an apple from the fruit bowl before she makes her way out into the street. It's just heavy enough in her palm, and the stains her fingertips have left aren't visible against the deep red of the fruit anyway.

Her bag is lying by the side of the door, and she swings it roughly over her shoulder as she steps out.

"Ollie!"

The door has just shut behind her, and she's just about to bite into the apple when the voice calls out. She frowns. There's no one else around- the street is deserted- and yet the voice was close. Close enough to be directed at her, even. Vaguely, she wonders who the voice was calling for, and takes another step forwards before stopping in her tracks.

Sitting on the wall in front of her house, is Eight and Ten.

And they're looking right at her.

"Ollie!" Ten waves, nudging Eight with her shoulder and beaming at Twelve, who with a sinking sense of dread, is just beginning to realise that maybe she is Ollie.

It does make sense, now that she thinks about it, that she's have a name. They all have- she can't be expected to go around calling them by numbers the whole time- but it's the fact that it's directed at her that catches her off guard.

Ollie.

She wonders where that came from. Why it's hers. And not-

Hyejoo.

The two syllables that she's actually claimed as hers, the secret that was once shared between Twelve and Eleven, and now is hers alone. She frowns, trying not to appear too shocked in front of Eight and Ten.

Hyejoo.

It's her name.

There's a strange sense of anger in the pit of her stomach.

Her's.

Not Ollie. Not Twelve.

For the first time, she doesn't want to call herself by a number any more. She doesn't need it now. She's not in the Room anymore, and she may never return. She doesn't want this number to define her, like she's just an item on a list.

More than anything, like she's replaceable.

"Ollie?" Calls Ten again, swinging her feet from where she's sitting down, "You okay? We were just about to give up and walk to school without you."

"I convinced need her to stay," piped up Eight, smiling angelically.

"I guess I'm just tired," Hyejoo says, "I didn't sleep too well last night."

Eight jumps up, laughing. "Let me guess. Playing video games again?" She runs up and grabs Hyejoo's sleeve, pulling her through the gate at the bottom of the garden and walking in what's presumably the direction of their school.

Hyejoo doesn't reply, but they take must take her silence as confirmation, as they burst out in peals of laughter again. She even sees Jiwoo wipe a tear away from her eyes, and decides that there must be some sort of inside joke, because what she said wasn't funny at all.

She frowns (again, she does realise that she seems to be doing that a lot, but it's all too overwhelming _not_ to frown so much) and waits for Ten to catch up. The older girl practically bounces into place beside her, linking arms with Hyejoo and, for the first time, speaks with a degree of seriousness that seems uncharacteristic.

"But seriously, Olivia, League of Legends won't do your homework for you! You don't want a repeat of last yet, do you?" Ten raises her eyebrows as she speaks, wagging her finger critically.

Olivia?

Ollie was probably a nickname, Hyejoo realises. As if she didn't have enough names to learn in the first place.

Eight only snorts, seemingly not noticing how Hyejoo doesn't react and batting her arm lightly. "Grandma Jiwoo is making a comeback, I see?"

Ten- no, Jiwoo- pouts in a fashion that is so unmistakably her that Hyejoo can't help but smile. She puts her hands on her hips and makes a sound incredibly childlike, "What? You're obviously wrong, Yerimmie~ W R O N G!"

"I'm serious!" Eight, or Yerim as Hyejoo now knows, says around her laughter, "It's like you were possessed by Haseul or something!"

Hyejoo frowns. She doesn't know who Haseul is. Theres something about the personality that sounds like it could possibly be Three, but it could also be someone else entirely. Truth be told, the concept of someone who's not one of the girls from the Room is still a bit strange to Hyejoo. Her entire life, it's just been them and the watchers. The thought of someone else seems... out of place. Impossible, maybe.

The rest of the walk to their school seems too short. The seconds slip past her, and although she knows that there's nothing to change yet, she can't help but feel like she's already gone wrong somewhere.

She’s so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t realise that she’s completely zoned out.

Beside her, Yerim squeals.

It's a loud sound, just unexpected enough to make Hyejoo jump. Then she notices how red Jiwoo's face has gotten, and she realises that she may have missed something.

Yerim's finger is pointing to a crowd of students, presumably at the person in the centre, but it's impossible to make out who amongst the sheer amount of people surrounding them. Every so often she catches a glimpse of long black hair, but it's a feature too vague for her to accurately place.

Another student grins at them as they walk past, blocking her view any further, and tries to hand Hyejoo a sheet of paper.

She doesn't take it, but simply stares.

Flyers?

She's handing out flyers?

It doesn't quite make sense.

There's something strange about the whole scene, about Jiwoo's reaction, about the girl. There's something that she's missing. Something pulls at the back of her mind, urging her to go back, to take another look. She's certain that something's wrong. But she just can't quite work out what it is.

And before she can get another look at the girl in the crowd, they're through the doors at the front of the school and masses of people are too far behind them. The lockers lining each side of the the corridor don't offer any kind of suggestion.

The girl stays on her mind for a few more seconds, before she's being pulled into a nearly full classroom and there's suddenly too much to focus. She's pushed into a seat in the corner of the room, right by the window.

Behind her, Yerim and Jiwoo sink into their own chairs, still gossiping. Jiwoo's cheeks are still slightly pink, and the grin on Yerim's face shows that she knows exactly why.

Something tells Hyejoo to concentrate, to work out what they're talking about, but she can't. The window pulls her attention to it, and she can't look away.

From her seat, she has a perfect view of the front of the school.

The roads sprawling out, the students still arriving before the bell rings. The huge fields on either side of the main path, the light blue bike sheds and trees dotted around, the only source of shade from the burning sun.

A piece of paper flys by the window. One of the flyers from earlier, Hyejoo realises but it's not quite the same. There's something off about the colour.

It takes her a second too long to place what its been stained by.

And it's at the same time she sees that the scene in front of the school has changed.

There is still a crowd around the girl, but it's for an entirely different reason. She can't hear their screams, but she can see the open mouths, and her heart sinks. The girl, the girl that Jiwoo blushed at, the girl with long dark hair, is lying on the floor.

Surrounded by the same blood that stained the flyer.

Her eyes narrow, as she opens her mouth to tell someone, but there's a loud sound that interrupts her before she has the chance to let any words out.

It's because someone's called out, rushing into the classroom and slamming the door so hard into the wall that Hyejoo doesn't have to look to know that it'll leave a mark.

Black, and scratched deep into the white paint until it eventually gets too painful to look at and someone paints over it.

"Someone was hit by a car!"

Suddenly, Hyejoo is much closer to the window that she's ever wanted to be. Her face is pressed against the cold glass, fingers  scrabbling for a hand hold on the desk. There are students pushing from behind her, all wanting to look at the scene taking place outside of the front gates. Like it's not fellow student, but another interesting bit of gossip. Today's sob story that probably won't even be remembered by lunch. They descend like gannets.

That's when she first heard the name.

_Sooyoung_.

_Sooyoung_.

_Sooyoung_.

It doesn't make sense, the name means nothing to her, until she looks behind her and-

Oh.

Of course it wouldn't be this easy.

It only takes one look at Jiwoo's face to confirm who Sooyoung is. Her face is pale, smile slipping off her face and dripping into the floor. Yerim's hand is pale from where she's clutching it too hard. If Hyejoo really looks, she can pinpoint the exact moment where Jiwoo's breath hitches.

The look of heartbreak is impossible to fake.

 

_Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something. A pale face, lacy skirts, eyes so wide and so kind. A flash of blonde hair._

_Just for a second, a mirage among the rest of the students clambering towards the windows like one singular mass. Just for a second, and then she's gone._

_A second isn't enough._

_She wants more._

_But Hyejoo's hand is already at her wrist, her fingers already pulling at the loose thread. The ribbon is already shifting, the fabric of time melting between her fingers like soft wax._


	3. One: Second Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short but its okay its for plot and i'm actually updating quickly for once
> 
> tw for the same teeny mention of blood as last time

Hyejoo wakes up.

There's a few seconds of disorientation, her head spinning so fast that she can't physically open her eyes. Then she remembers -Sooyoung, the car crash,  _Eleven-_ and she remembers that there's no point in wasting time by feeling sorry for her self. The ribbon is still tight on her wrist, and she immediately brings it close to her chest, massaging the skin whilst she takes in her surroundings.

She's still in the grey room.

Grey bed sheets and silver bedposts covered in peeling stickers. Tentatively, she grabs one, watching as it makes the paint flake off the wood. Walls covered in posters, all still with mouth half open.

She climbs out of the bed, letting her toes sink into the carpet and makes her way to the wardrobe.

The same route she took last time.

The steps come naturally, and she doesn't need to look down to know that they'll be in the same place that she stepped before. It's the way that time wants to go. It doesn't want to be changed.

Too bad Hyejoo's not giving it a choice.

She grabs the same clothes she threw on before, letting the silk pyjamas pool around her ankles in an identical fashion. The same jacket, the same tights and skirt. It's not until she's pulling on the pair of black combat boots that she realises she could have changed something.

But it's too late.

She's already falling.

The pain returns in her leg like it never left. It's the same bright feeling, the sudden realisation that she's cut herself again before her mind remembers that its supposed to hurt.

Her fingers travel down to the wound.

Damp, the blood staining her tights.

It's not surprising.

But she can't afford to waste time thinking about the cut when it's already happened. Instead, she finishes tying her laces and races out of the bedroom, not pausing to see if there's anyone else in the house. Not when she knows there isn't.

She rubs at the cut absentmindedly though, wincing when the skin screams in protest, a fresh wave of agony flooding through her body. The blood on her fingers stares back at her when she finally moves her hand away.

There's a second of silence as her mind reels, trying to focus on the last time she saw blood  _because something else had definitely happened_  and feels slightly sick when she remembers exactly what she was trying so hard to recall.

The flyer, drifting past the window, stained with crimson.

She has to change it.

Hyejoo grabs an apple, biting into it as she slides through the kitchen.

She swings her bag over her shoulder as she closes the door behind her and begins to make her way down the path-

"Ollie!"

Ten grins, swinging her legs and nudging Eight from where they're sitting on the wall outside her house. She grins and waves, before getting up and walking over to Hyejoo in a strange parallel of her actions tomorrow.

They're changed so slightly that they won't ever have an affect, but it's still slightly strange to Hyejoo to think that even her facial expression can affect the movement of time.

"You okay?" Jiwoo asks, "We were just about to give up and walk to school without you."

Yerim grabs Hyejoo's sleeve, pulling her through the gate at the bottom of the garden and walking in the direction of their school, "I had to convince her to stay. Seriously, she's such a bad friend."

Jiwoo squawks is protest despite the lack of malice in Yerim's words. Between her indignant yells, Hyejoo manages to reply. "I guess I'm just tired. Stayed up too late playing-"

"Video games?" Jiwoo and Yerim chorus at the same time, hands over their mouths, trying to suppress the laughter threatening to spill from their lips, earlier fight forgotten.

Hyejoo can't help but smile as well.

Or so she thinks, as her lips quirk upwards. It's been so long since she smiled, she's almost forgotten what it was like.

It's just that there's a kind of infectious happiness around them, and she can't help but move her mouth.

Hyejoo hadn't realised how much she'd missed it.

Jiwoo comes up behind her and walks next to Hyejoo, linking arms with her as if it's the most natural thing. She frowns in mock seriousness, and puts her other hand on her hip.

"But seriously, Olivia, League of Legends won't do your homework for you! You don't want a repeat of last year, do you?" Her eyebrows are raised, and she wags her finger critically.

Hyejoo almost falls into the same silence as last time.

Yerim is just about to open her mouth, a second away from making a joke about Jiwoo sounding to old, when Hyejoo gets there first.

"As if you're any better. I bet you spent the night dreaming about Sooyoung again."

The fabric of time stretches slightly further. It's a step in the right direction, but it's not quite enough.

_More._

Jiwoo's face turns red. "Ho- How did-" she splutters, cheeks burning in embarrassment, "How did you know?"

Yerim reaches over Hyejoo to flick Jiwoo on the forehead. "It's obvious, idiot," she says, "You're not exactly subtle. The whole school knows about your big crush at this point." She paused, as if thinking, before adding, "That's Big Crush with and capital B and C, by the way."

"You should talk to her."

Time stretches. It's tearing at the seams, bursting with the change Hyejoo's trying to force through. It doesn't like this, it's doesn't want to give in, but it's doesn't have a choice.

Hyejoo isn't giving it a choice.

"I don't- I can't. I'll just mess up and make myself look like an idiot."

Hyejoo rolls her eyes. "Then she won't exactly be wrong. You  _are_ an idiot." Jiwoo's just about to protest when Hyejoo continues, "You're and idiot for not seeing that she likes you back. I'm pretty sure she's been crushing on you for months."

Jiwoo's legs stop working for a second. Her whole body freezes, and she's a step behind, having to run slightly to catch up before she's pulled away from the others. "Really?"

"Really." Says Hyejoo, and Yerim echoes her. The other girl looks slightly confused, but her grin hasn't faded at all.

"There!" She exclaims, pointing in the distance, to the school. They'd managed to get there so quickly. "Go!"

She's suddenly pushing Jiwoo forwards, into the crowd of people to where a girl with long dark hair is handing out flyers to passing students.

Nine.

Sooyoung.

Hyejoo is too far away to hear what they're saying, but she can tell it's going well by the fact that the crowd around Sooyoung is beginning to disperse. She can see how Sooyoung's confident facade drops, how wide she grins when Jiwoo approaches her.

She can see how Jiwoo takes Sooyoung's hand, and how tightly she holds it.

She can see how the flyers lie on the floor forgotten.

A few are picked up by the wind, spiralling up into the air and away.

Hyejoo steps forward. It only takes a few steps to reach the two girls, and less than a second for the words to leave her mouth. "Come on, lets get to class. We don't want to be late."

Jiwoo grins, immediately heading towards the school building, and Sooyoung follows her. Her eyes are bright, and she's too caught up in the other girl to remember the flyers lying discarded.

Behind them, there's the sound of an engine, the shrieks of a few students as a at speeds past. Slightly too fast, slightly onto the courtyard. The wheels leave tyre tracks over the pile of flyers, but it doesn't matter.

Sooyoung isn't there.

Time rips.

It breaks, and immediately sews itself back together in a new pathway. It groans under the strain, but there's no way it can fight back. There's a slight burning sensation at Hyejoo's temples, but it's gone almost as it appears.

She smiles.


	4. Two: I Saw An Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> title from nct 127's Angel
> 
> tw for blood and death

She follows Jiwoo and Sooyoung to the next lesson, Yerim sticking by her side, not wanting to get too close to the newly-formed couple. The other girl can't contain her excitement, squealing every time they do much as look at each other, much to Hyejoo's embarrassment.

Next time she'll make sure to stay further away.

The corridor blurs into rows and rows of identical lockers, and it feels like a lifetime later that they reach the classroom. Hyejoo manages to slip past Jiwoo, who's bidding farewell to Sooyoung, and practically throws herself into her seat, smiling when she notices the absence of flyers scattered around the entrance to the school.

Sooyoung is safe.

Yerim sits behind her, unzipping her bag and rummaging in it to find a pencil or pen. Hyejoo copies her, trying to look as natural as possible. Jiwoo sits next to Yerim and the sound of them talking is just quiet enough to become little more than background noise.

Hyejoo opens her own bag, not really knowing what's going to be in there. There's a strange sense of excitement, she realises, as she flicks through the neat pile of books in an attempt to locate her pen. It feels like something out of a movie, just cliche enough to feel surreal.

She's never been to a school like this before.

She's never been to a school before.

Of course she's had an education, but she's only now realising how limited it may have been. How much they wanted to keep a secret, and how much they actually prepared her for.

How much of the world is unlimited potential.

She can't help but think of Eleven, of the other girls fascination with anything outside the Room. Hyejoo hadn't really cared. Her ambition reached what she was told she was able to do, and went not further. She'd sharpened her ability to the amount they wanted, and hadn't dared to go further.

Eleven had learnt everything possible.

At some point, the teacher walks in. They start talking, but Hyejoo doesn't have it in her to pay attention. Even if she tried, she can't help but get distracted. The window beside her keeps her mind focused on it, not matter how hard she tries to look away.

So she doesn't try.

Until suddenly she has the urge to leave. Her stomach clenches, in a similar way to the sudden urge to use the toilet. Her head spins slightly, and bile begins to rise in her throat.

Trying not to shake too much, she raises her hand. "Can I go to the loo?"

The teacher looks up, obviously not expecting Hyejoo to speak up. She doesn't spend too long worrying about it though, nodding without putting much thought to it and waving in the vague direction of the door.

She leaves the classroom quickly, sighing in relief when she notices a sign on the wall opposite the classroom. It declares the toilets as left, so that's the direction she goes off in.

She turns the corner, hoping that the signs will be correct and that she won't have to wonder through the corridors for any longer than necessary, and almost walks straight into Six.

"Olivia!"

Hyejoo stops walking and waits for Six to continue, suddenly paying much more attention than before. Seven suddenly pokes her head around the corner as well, grinning at Hyejoo with the look of a child about to do something they know is wrong.

It puts Hyejoo on edge.

"Did you hear? Sooyoung and Jiwoo are dating now!" Seven whispers, although it's not very successful. The corridor is completely silent, and so amplifies her voice despite her best efforts to keep it quiet.

"Yeah." Says Hyejoo, wondering where this is going. She takes a few steps forwards, just enough to face Six and Seven properly, and can't help raising her eyebrows when she sees a very fed-up looking Three and Five.

It's clear that they're planning to skip school. Six and Seven's almost hysterical nature coupled with Three and Five's reluctancy makes that the obvious solution.

But why?

And where?

Hyejoo can't keep an eye on them if they're not in the school. And besides, she's already told herself to watch over Jiwoo only. She has to know that the other girl is safe, and not get distracted with anyone else.

Not matter how much of a bad feeling pools in her gut.

Six gestures behind her to Three and Five, "We made a bet a few weeks ago about when they'd finally get together." She grins again, laughing in a way that's slightly evil, "And we've decided that their punishment for losing it should be skipping school."

"The high and mighty Haseul and Kahei? Skipping school?" Seven chimes in. Hyejoo immediately frowns, trying to match up the names. In all honesty, it isn't that hard. Jiwoo has mentioned Haseul earlier, and even then she'd thought it could be Three.

Haseul rolls her eyes, pulling Kahei behind her until they're standing practically in line with Six and Seven. "Olivia, do you want to come with? There's a spare seat, if you're up for it." Her eyes narrow, "Otherwise we'll have to invite-"

She never gets to finish her sentence, as Six interrupts. "And I'm driving instead of Jinsol, so we might not actually get lost this time!"

Seven- no, Jinsol- whacks Six on the shoulder, but there's no malice in it and she's smiling. They seem to get along so well, and it makes Hyejoo feel a little sad.

It's so different to the muted personalities from the Room. So different from the faked obedience and blank faces Hyejoo had grown up with.

"Sorry," she says, "I've got a test next lesson, and I can't afford to miss it" She's met with a chorus of disappointed groans.

Six walks past her, patting her shoulder as she goes, "Maybe next time?" Hyejoo nods.

Knowing full well that there won't be a next time.

Jinsol smiles as she passes, and Haseul dimly looks even more let down, apparently dreading the trip. Hyejoo's just about to make her own move, to actually reach the toilets this time, when Kahei stops by her.

"Good choice. Jungeun is no better at driving than Jinsol," she says, and then she's gone.

Hyejoo stands in the corridor, frozen for a few seconds. She can't help but feel like she's made a mistake. Like she's missing something huge, like she shouldn't have to worry about Jiwoo anymore and should instead focus on-

"Hey!"

Hyejoo turns around to see Yerim, throwing her bag at her. She reacts quickly, catching before her brain even has the chance to ask why.

"You took so long that lesson has practically finished. The teacher sent me out a few minutes early to try and find you!" She raises her eyebrows, cheeks pink and slightly out of breath, "Seriously, though, did you get lost?"

Hyejoo rubs the back of her head awkwardly. She's never been the best at talking to people, and she can't find the words to explain what just happened. She opens her mouth and closes it a few times, struggling to phrase anything right, and eventually Yerim gives up.

"Never mind," she says, and starts to make her way down the corridor, "Lets just got to next lesson."

Hyejoo nods, but she's only a few steps further down the corridor when a bell rings. She brushes off, but Yerim looks up and her face turns pale.

Hyejoo frowns. It's just a normal bell, even she can tell that, but there's got to be a reason that Yerim looks so worried. It's not something seen often on the other girl's face.

Yerim opens her mouth, reaching for Hyejoo's sleeve, but before she can speak, the corridor fills with what feels like hundreds of students, all trying to travel in their own respective directions. The two girls are quickly separated by the rush of people, and Hyejoo suddenly realises why Yerim looked so concerned.

She tries to push past the crowd of people, tries to catch up with Yerim, but it's not use. There's simply too many bodies around her, and despite her best efforts, she's actually being pushed backwards.

There are arms and legs, and she's hit with the sudden realisation that she has no idea where to go next, even if she does manage to free herself from the crowd. Now that she's lost Yerim, she doesn't even know what her next class is.

It's that though that makes her stop walking, and it's because she stops walking that she notices where she is.

At the bottom of a huge marble stairway. It's packed with students all trying to get past each other, son much soo that the white floor can barely be seen. The intricate carvings on the side of the banisters are ignored in favour of harsh shoves and curses.

Someone yells, "Heejin!"

Hyejoo looks up, because the voice is just frantic enough for her heart to sink, and because the name is just familiar enough that she already knows she's too late.

There's a girl, falling.

In a strange way, she looks like an angel. Her dress flies out behind her, hair splayed behind her head as she flies towards the ground. Her mouth is open in shock, the realisation not quite hit and the beginnings of fear a few second to late. No sound comes out of her lips.

Around Hyejoo, the students grind to a halt. There's no shoving. No cursing. It's all they can do but stay in shocked silence, as One falls to the ground in slow motion.

And then suddenly, she's not falling any more.

Her head hits the concrete.

For a second, Hyejoo thinks that it might be okay. That One- Heejin- is jut going to get up and shake the fall off. She might shed a few tears, have a few mottled bruises staining her skin for a few days, but she'd be fine.

Then she notices how open her eyes are.

How they don't blink.

How they've glossed over.

How they're devoid of anything that could ever be mistaken for life.

And then there's a halo of blood seeping out from somewhere hidden by Heejin's long brown hair. The coppery liquid surrounds her in an ever growing circle, clumping her hair together and painting her pale skin.

Her lips are already slightly blue. Tinged with the hints of death already, her entire body slowly turning an ashen grey. One of arms is at an angle that should be impossible. The only reason why it isn't is because of the bone that peeks out from her elbow, splintered almost beyond recognition.

Her eyes are still open.

Hyejoo doesn't know how she ever thought Heejin could be okay.

_Then there's movement behind her, higher on the stairs than Hyejoo had looked before. A blonde girl with dark eyes pushes past a bag that had been left so carelessly in the centre of the stairway._

_Heejin has tripped over it, Hyejoo realises. She can just about make out her foot connecting with the fabric in her minds she, the surprised look as she was suddenly in mid air, catapulting too quickly towards the ground._

_And the blonde girl knows that._

_She doesn't turn around, but she doesn't need to. Hyejoo could recognise her anywhere. It's the face that her heart yearns to see, the smile that makes her whole body freeze up._

_But that doesn't mean Hyejoo hesitates._

_Yet again, her fingers fasten around the ribbon on her wrist, and she pulls._


	5. Two: To Be Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ((i dont proofread these, if that wasn't already obvious from the huge amount of mistakes. Just ignore them for now, as when this fic is complete i'm going to go back and edit the entire thing to make it,,, less bad)))
> 
> no really described deaths its okay fam

When she wakes up, the world seems to still be spinning. It's just for a few seconds, but it's still enough to make her stomach turn. She has to press her fingers to her temples, trying not to close her eyes even when the light in the room is overwhelming. She screws up her forehead in concentration and begins to climb out of bed.

Then she stops.

Putting her hand over her eyes, she walks over to the window opposite her bed.

She doesn't know why it grabs her attention. It's a normal window. The curtains are a soft grey, matching the colour of her bedsheets and slightly worn. Through the glass, she can see Jiwoo and Yerim arrive outside her house. They laugh for a few seconds, before sitting on the wall. Yerim glances behind her once, but she doesn't see Hyejoo.

There's nothing strange about the scene at all.

Hyejoo frowns. She can't shake off the thought that something is different. It's only as she goes to shrug off her pyjamas that she realises that the curtains weren't open the last time she woke up.

And yet they were now.

Something has changed.

She quickly pulls them closed, but there's a weird feeling in her stomach. It's not the nausea from earlier- that's practically all disappeared- but more of a sense of confusion. She continues to get changed, climbing into the same outfit from yesterday, but can't quite concentrate.

Even as she stumbles and falls backwards, tearing a hole in her skirt and feeling the red hot pain in her leg, it doesn't feel quite as strong as it did before. The pain is still there, it's just that she can't seem to focus on it. It blends into the background, her thought too preoccupied with the window to even consider worrying about the blood slowly trickling down her leg.

Then, it's almost as if a lightbulb goes off in her head.

Equal and opposite reactions.

She changed time when she saved Sooyoung, and so time changed something back. Something so small and meaningless that it doesn't seem significant at all but, Hyejoo glances back, had probably had a huge effect at some point.

A shiver runs down her back.

Time can be malicious. She knows that more than anyone, and maybe that's what makes the window so hard to simply shrug off. But she has too. There's nothing that she can change there, so she should only focus on what she came here to do.

It's so simple in theory, but it doesn't stop her stomach from churning.

She shakes her head, putting it out of her mind and grabbing the apple and bag before heading out. She even manages to fake a grin for Yerim, as Jiwoo calls out for her as soon as she steps out.

"You okay? We were just about to give up and walk to school without you." She says. Yerim stands up, ready to grab Hyejoo's sleeve to pull her out of the gate, but Hyejoo's too fast. She's on the pavement before the other girl has even stood up, head tilted up towards the sky.

"I had to convince her to stay." Says Yerim, but the confusion is evident in her voice. She obviously wasn't expecting Hyejoo to be in suck a rich, and so doesn't continue speaking in favour of catching up.

Hyejoo links arms with Yerim, glancing behind her for Jiwoo. "I guess I'm just tired. Stayed up all night playing-"

"Video games?" Jiwoo and Yerim chorus at the same time, barely a glance exchanged between them. Their hands flew to their mouths, trying to hide the laughter.

Hyejoo smiles, but her heart isn't in in. Instead, she says, "I don't need a lecture. It won't happen again," and watches as Jiwoo's mouth closes around the words she was just about to say. "Besides," Hyejoo glances at Jiwoo again, and this time her smile is real, "As if you're any better. I bet you spent the night dreaming about Sooyoung again."

Jiwoo goes red, a shade that's becoming familiar.

Yerim laughs at her friend, reaching over Hyejoo to flick Jiwoo in the forehead. "It's obvious, you idiot. The whole school knows about your big crush at this point. That's Big Crush with a capital B and C, by the way."

"She likes you back, you know," says Hyejoo nudging Jiwoo with her shoulder, "You should go and talk to her."

Jiwoo shakes her head, but there's no emotion behind it. "As if," she says, "As if  _Sooyoung_ would ever like me-"

But she never gets go finish. They've arrived at school, and Yerim suddenly pushes the other girl into the crowd, just close enough that she trips and stumbles through the ring of people.

And right into Sooyoung's arms.

Hyejoo doesn't need to watch this time. She knows why will happen, exactly when to walk up to them and tell them to get a move on. At exactly which second to turn her head, just in time to see a car slid across the courtyard, its only victim a few stray flyers.

"Ollie?" Says Yerim when she sees Hyejoo looking, trying to see what she's looking at. She can't see anything, of course, but Hyejoo doesn't leave her any time to get confused. Before she can ask again, she pulls her towards class, throwing herself into her seat and unpacking her bag.

Then it's just a matter of waiting.

Again, her eyes are pulled to the window. Again, her stomach twists and she can't help but feel slightly ill. Head spinning, bile beginning to rise in her throat, palms clammy.

She glances at the clock.

Not yet.

Not yet, she can't afford to run into Jungeun again.

Not yet, she can't afford to lose that much time to a conversation that didn't even matter.

Not yet, she can't afford to be damaged for even a seco-

Her hand flies into the air, though she barely even realised she was moving. "Can I go to the loo?"

The teacher frowns, equally as confused as the first time. Hyejoo must not look like the type of person to speak up, but the teacher doesn't spend too much time thinking about it anyway. She gestures to the door with a dismissive wave, and just like that, Hyejoo is out of the class. She was out of the door before the teacher had even fully raised their hand, but ignores the confused charters she leaves behind her.

Yerim calling after her, Jiwoo's eyebrows slightly furrowed.

It doesn't matter how she acts, not really.

As long as they're safe, as long as their lives aren't in danger, she doesn't have to show a single second of decency.

She doesn't have to worry about what people think.

It's just another day in a long line, and she doesn't have the patience to change every person's opinion of her, not when she has more important things to be doing.

She turns a corridor, and sees Jungeun, Jinsol about to call out to her. But she can't stop. "Sorry, really need the loo," she says, and doesn't stop walking. They don't even get the chance to open their mouths.

Maybe she should feel a bit bad, especially as Kahei smiles as she walks away, but Hyejoo doesn't have the time to wait around and smile back. Before the other girl has even turned her head, she's gone.

From inside the classrooms on both sides of the corridor, the sounds become louder. Students beginning to pack up in the anticipation of being let out.

"Hey!" Calls a voice, and Hyejoo doesn't need to look behind her to know it's Yerim, carrying both bags with pink cheeks. The other girl come to find her again, wondering and worrying about where her friend had gone.

Hyejoo sprints away.

She can just about hear Yerim's confused shouts, but she doesn't have time to explain herself. Instead, she practically launched herself around corner after corner, following her instincts until-

There.

Her hands latch around the bag straps, and she pulls. It's heavy, much heavier than she was expecting, even with the corner of a textbook peeking out from between the metal teeth of the zips. But even as her wrist protests, it's enough. The bag slides across the floor. Safely out of the way.

There's just enough time to breathe out, to look around, before the bell rings again.

Just as shrill as she remembered it, and just as chaotic. Every door around her seems to open at the same time, unleashing an endless stream of students into the once-silent corridor. Just like before, she's pushed down the corridor, a tidal wave taking her down the stairs and far away. She has to push against the rows to stay close, flinching every time a body is pressed against hers, the hairs on her arms rising uncomfortably.

And then-

"Heejin!" A voice calls, and the movement of the crowd grinds to a halt.

Heejin is tumbling.

Down the stairs, down through the air, down towards the hard tiled floor. Hyejoo's heart sinks, a sick feeling of dread causing her head to spin. For a second, she thinks she's going to throw up, not ready to see her die again.

And then she realises that this feeling is familiar, that she's felt it before. That her head spinning is because time is splitting around her, tearing itself apart and screaming as it does so.

Heejin hits the floor, but she's up almost straight away. Cheeks pink, ankle at a funny angle, but she's blinking and breathing and that's all Hyejoo needs.

She's so close to letting out a sob of relief, so close to finally letting out the breath she's been holding when someone shouts with an all-too familiar sense of panic.

At the top of the staircase is a huge set of windows. She hadn't paid attention to them before, but now there are students crowding around, murmuring in confusion.

The windows have a perfect view of the field on the left side of the school, and therefore the perfect view of the football game that's underway. And therefore the perfect view of a body- a young girl- lying in the middle of the field. There's a ball by her head, and the grass is just stained enough that Hyejoo can work out what happened.

The white colour is too dark to be mud.

"That's Kim Hyunjin!" She hears the boy next to her whispering, nudging his friend, "God, Heejin is going to be devastated."

And Hyejoo doesn't need to turn round to see Heejin pulling herself up the stairs. Pushing through the crowd despite her ankle, despite being barely able to stand. She doesn't need to see her face drain of colour, or how she collapses to the floor.

Two.

_Her fingers are by her wrist, just as she sees the familiar flash of blonde hair. Too close, and yet not close enough. The head tilted too far away, but if Hyejoo wanted to, she could reach out and touch her._

_Look her in the eyes._

_Her fingers move on their own, tugging before she's ready to go, just as the girl turns around, as she opens her mouth to speak._

_Her words are lost to the void, as Hyejoo pulls._


	6. Two: Alone In the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter is trash, but isn't that just a Big Mood

Hyejoo wakes up with her head spinning. She's so used to the feeling now that it's familiar, expected even. And as she looks around her room, she doesn't need to change anything.

The curtains are open, but she lets her body move without thinking. It knows what to do at this point, so she just tips her head back. No use paying attention to the same things.

Instead, she focuses on trying to solve the problem of Hyunjin and Heejin. She can't be in two places at once, no matter how many times she travels back. Her mind stretches out, spinning over idea after idea, all discarded until-

Her hand freezes over a hair pin.

Could that-

Well, it doesn't matter if it doesn't work. She always has tomorrow if it goes wrong.

And the day after that.

And the day after that.

She slips it into her hair and stops worrying about it. Grabs her bag, grabs an apple. Talks to Jiwoo and convinces her to confess to Sooyoung. Laughs along with Yerim.

Then she's suddenly struck with an idea.

"Isn't class starting soon?" Hyejoo says, and Yerim glances at her. "I just don't want to be late for lessons. In fact, you should probably go inside with them."

"With them?" Yerim's frown deepens, "Olivia, what-"

"I'm gonna go to the changing rooms. Mind telling me how to get there?"

Yerim explains with far too many hand movements for Hyejoo's liking, but she just about understands. Her legs are already moving backwards, so before Yerim can begin to ask why she wanted to know again, she's off.

It doesn't take her long to find the changing rooms, even if she does take a wrong turn in her haste to get away from Yerim. The other girl calls after her, but Hyejoo doesn't even turn around. She's too focused on her current task, and if Yerim's life isn't in danger than she can't waste her time there.

Though it seems harsh, it's necessary.

She quickly corrects herself, tries to shrug off the initial embarrassment and burning cheeks, and rounds the corner to the door.

Exactly where they said it would be. It's even slightly open, not quite shut properly by the last person to use it, and really, what better luck could she ask for? She only has to open the door.

She steps inside.

The lockers are all metal, and for a second she thinks they're identical. The same grey colour, the same rusted lock system. Her heart sinks, and then she sees more in the corner, more specifically a locker painted in a bright yellow. There's a sticker of a cat on the dented metal, cheerful despite the peeling paint that surrounds it. At the very top, someone's written a name in sharpie.

_Hyunjin :D_

It's hers.

It's definitely hers.

Hyejoo doesn't waste time. She reaches into her hair and extracts the hair pin. Luckily, the locks are just as cheap as she had hoped. They don't stand a chance against her, not when she's been doing this since she could walk. After barely a minute, the lock breaks, the door opening with a creaking sound that makes her teeth stand on edge.

She's in.

She doesn't have enough time to cover her tracks with the lock, or even to take in the contents of Hyunjin's locker, though she can't help but smile when she sees that it's completely plastered in Polaroid's of her and Heejin. There's an empty banana milk bottle, a few loose pieces of paper with practice timetables on them, a half eaten sandwich and-

In the middle of the mess is her uniform.

Hyejoo grabs it, pulling in between the bottle and a small cat plushie. Her hearts racing in her chest, and she's just about to push the locker door shut when there's a sound.

Talking. From outside the door where she'd come in.

 

She took too long.

 

The players are here.

 

There isn't time to try and escape, even if there is a window that she could probably climb out through, and she can't pretend that she got lost, because she's got an obviously stolen uniform clutched in her hands.

 

So she does the next best thing.

 

Hide.

 

She dives behind an old table tennis set, where it's been lent against the wall just enough that she can squeeze her body into the gap left. With one hand, she reaches out and pulls a trolley full of various types of balls to her side, effectively covering up the space where she's climbed through. 

 

And not a second to fast, because less than a moment later, the door to the changing rooms is thrown open, and the room fills with sound.

  
The clothes are heavy in her hand, the soft fabric almost impossible to hold. It burns her palm with the feeling, begging her to let it go, to give up and just let Hyunjin die. Time screams at her like a banshee, each breath she takes pulling the strings tighter and tighter.

But she doesn't drop it.

If anything, she clings to it tighter, pulling it her chest and squeezing as hard as she can. Tries to tilt her head backwards, an attempt to even out her breathing.

She has to stay hidden.

She has to.

Behind her, the chatter of the players becomes louder. All of what she can hear is useless- meaningless small talk about boyfriends and the latest episode of some television drama. The air is filled with laughter, but that only makes Hyejoo even more nervous. Her heart hammers in her chest, so hard she almost thinks it's about to burst out, showering the wall she's pressed against in red.

Then, she hears Hyunjin. Her voice is familiar, though it's been over a year since Hyejoo last heard it. "Why's my locker open?" She asks, only to be met with a chorus of confused sounds and shrugs.

"Maybe it's one of the boys?" A girl with a reedy voice suggests, "You know, maybe they wanted to prank you or something."

"Maybe," says Hyunjin, and Hyejoo can hear the frown in her voice. Someone walks right past Hyejoo's hiding place, shoes echoing on the tiled floor like something out of a horror movie. Her breath almost catches in her throat, but she forces herself to stay calm, squeezing her eyes shut and digging her nails into her palms.

There's a moment of silence, a lull in the chatter, and then Hyunjin exclaims, "My uniform's gone!"

The atmosphere of the changing rooms completely changes. It explodes in noise, people yelling about 'disgusting perverts' and debating over who could have done it. None of them stop to think that the thief could still be in the same room of them, along with the stolen uniform. Instead, they accuse what sounds like practically everyone in the school, before actually trying to do something about it.

"What do I do?" Asks Hyunjin, and she sounds angry. The footsteps by Hyejoo's hiding place pass by again, pacing in frustration.

 _Give up,_ thinks Hyejoo, _give up and go home. Skip the game today. Give up._

"You could borrow my uniform?" Suggests a new voice, and there's the rustle of fabric. Hyunjin's probably holding it up to herself, seeing how it would fit, biting her lip like she always did when she was nervous.

 _Say no,_ thinks Hyejoo, _it doesn't fit. You can't stop someone else from playing. Just give up._

"Really?" Asks Hyunjin.

Hyejoo's heart stops.

"Yeah!" Says the girl, "You're our star player- we can't go on without you! Besides," she sighs, "It's not like I'm going to be able to play with my broken leg. It's the least I can do."

That's met with various sounds, all commenting on how thoughtful and kind she is. "Thanks," says Hyunjin, and the relief in her voice is easy to hear, "Seriously. I owe you one."

The changing rooms begin to chat again, resuming their conversations like nothing happened. The girl nearest Hyejoo stops pacing, and before long they're filing out of the door, ready to warm up for the game they're about to play. They don't know that halfway through the game, a ball will connect with Hyunjin's skull. That she'll never get the chance to pay the other girl back, and that the blood stains will probably never come out of the borrowed uniform.

Hyejoo takes a deep breath.

_Her fingers are around her wrist. It's too dark to see the end of the ribbon, but she knows where it is instinctively. She doesn't need light, not to rewind time._

_It's easy to pull this time, maybe because it's so early in the day, or maybe because she's getting more used to the plunging sensation, the bile rising in her throat and absence of air in her lungs._

_She's used to it._

_She expects the pain._

_She also expects to see a flash of blonde hair, a soft smile and missed touch. But there's nothing, except the endless black of the hanging rooms, as time slows, hangs in the air for a second, before being violently ripped back._

_But, just before she melts away, and maybe it's her imagination, she thinks she feels something beside her. Someone maybe, the soft touch of fingers at her other wrist, the whisper of breath by her ear._

_And then she's gone._


	7. Two: Rusted Scissors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have exams at the end of april and all through may so guess who's trying to get this fic finished by then

The morning is just like every other.

Battle the nausea.

Pull the curtains shut.

Fall backwards into the nail, tearing the side of her leg open, and ignore the wound.

She grabs her bag and an apple, but slips a pair of scissors that were conveniently on her desk into the hem of her skirt. They're heavy, the silver metal stained red and orange from rust, and the blades are sharp. The cold metal presses against her side in a way that's almost painful, but it keeps her mind on the task ahead. Keeps the hair slide from yesterday pulling her hair away from her face, reminding her of what she has to avoid.

She walks to school like normal, the words coming naturally at this point, and only begins to change things when she's standing right in front of the school, watching as Sooyoung and Jiwoo begin to talk.

"Yerim, make sure you don't miss class," Hyejoo says, already beginning to walk backwards towards the changing rooms and hoping that Yerim gets the message. She needs as much time as possible to destroy the net, and can't afford to waste any more precious seconds with the other girl.

Yerim frowns, "What? Olivia-"

"I'm going to the changing rooms. See you later!"

Yerim goes to step forward, but Hyejoo is already gone, tracing her steps from yesterday down the endless corridors until she's outside of the changing rooms. The door to the is open- just like last time. Her hand goes to the hair clip in her hair, but she doesn't need it. Instead. She simply pushes the door open and steps inside, making sure to close it behind her.

The rows of lockers on the left side of the room seem to stare at her with invisible eyes. The bright yellow of Hyunjin's makes her feel a bit ill, the colour way too vivid next to the silver and grey of the rest. Even the peeling stickers seem to mock her.

She's glad to turn away, even if she can still fell its presence behind her.

It doesn't take long to identify the nets- someone has helpfully piled them up in a corner of the room, next to the footballs and goalposts. The material is much heavier than she thought it'd be, and slightly damp from the warm air in the changing rooms. It has the distinct smell of must and mud from years ago.

She gets out the scissors and begins to cut.

If her memory is right, she has about a minute before any of the players arrive. There isn't a spare net anywhere (that she can see), so it's in that time frame that she does as much damage as she can. Her fingers ache from the repeated action, blunt blades not designed for ripping through such fabric. They catch too many times, pulling at her skin until it's bright red.

Bits of netting fall to the floor, decorating her shoes with tiny pieces of fabric. It surrounds her like ugly snowflakes.

_Snip,_ go the scissors in her hand,  _snip snip sni-_

The faint sound of approaching chatter from the corridor tells her that her time is up. She drops the net into the floor, not bothering to fold it neatly and crawls into the same space as last time, tucking her knees against her chest and tilting her head backwards until her breathing evens out. The trolley full of balls is by her side again, obscuring any part of that may have been visible, and the metal of the scissors digs into her palm from where she's gripping it too tightly.

The door to the changing room opens, and the room fills with sound.

It's all meaningless chatter, conversation to fill the time as they pull on their uniforms. Crushes, the same episode of the tv show as yesterday, the latest gossip. Just as dull as the first time she heard it.

Each locker squeaks as it's opened, fabric rustling as they each pull on their uniforms. It doesn't take them long to get changed, and before long the footsteps approach the ruined net. Someone moves the football out of the way and picks it up, the very end on the fabric just in Hyejoo's line of sight.

Of course it's Hyunjin.

Hyejoo just about makes out her face as she holds up the net against herself, obviously wondering why it wasn't in the neat pile it had been left in.

Then she sees the gaping hole.

Where the net has been cut beyond repair in too many places to count, sections missing wherever she looked. The scissor work not even neat- parts only halfway cut or hanging loose.

But all that maters is that its ruined, and that Hyunjin can't play.

"What the-" In Hyunjin's confusion, she can't quite get the words out to finish her sentence. There's the movement of fabric against the dusty floor, and a few shocked gasps. Muttering getting louder. Multiple pairs of feet running towards where Hyunjin must be standing, trying to figure what exactly has happened.

And then there's silence.

The girls not able to voice their confusion, not able to accuse each other because they know that no one in the room would do such a thing.

Because they don't know that Hyejoo is there, heart beating against her rib cage like it's a tiny bird. Its beating wings flapping furiously, beak driven into the soft flesh of her heart in a desperate attempt to escape.

"What are we going to do?" Says a voice that Hyejoo doesn't recognise, "We can't play if we don't have a net."

_Good,_ thinks Hyejoo,  _call the game off._

"Is there enough time to try and fix it?" Someone else suggests, but it's quickly shot down. None of them have the skills or the time, and any attempt they could make wouldn't last a single hit.

There's some more muttering. Another suggestion too quiet for Hyejoo to hear but just as useless as the last.

_Give up._

_Don't play._

_Please._

Someone kicks a wall by the sound of it, a hollow thump that echoes around her mind. The sound is painful in its level, and Hyejoo's breath catches in her throat as her entire body tenses up.

It's too close for comfort. Her hand is by her wrist without even thinking, poised in the inevitably of her being discovered. A loose thread brushes against the tip of her finger, sending goosebumps up her arm. Every single one of her senses is amplified, sending shooting pains trough her skull.

There's also a much softer sound, although she can tell there's just as much force behind the action. The net, thrown at the wall in frustration. Gaping hole in the middle exposed for all the world to see.

"We'll have to call the game off." Says a new voice, this one much older after the nervous chatter had died down. Someone must have gotten the coach, though Hyejoo didn't hear the door open or close.

It's met with a chorus of groans, but the coach only sighs, "I know, I know. But it'll only be postponed by a day or two." A pause, "I'm sorry girls. I know how much you trained for this. It's just- who could have done this?"

That's met with another lot of musters, though the mood quickly turns sour. What was once disappointment and confusion morphs into anger before Hyejoo can even bat an eyelid. Curses fly around the room, tension charging the air with an almost tangible electricity.

Someone leans on the trolley of balls, heels kicked up against the wire frame. Hair long and dark, and Hyejoo realises almost a second too late that it's Hyunjin, kicking the metal in her frustration.

She's so close to seeing Hyejoo.

If she turned her head just the smallest fraction of an angle to the left, if her eyesight was just the slightest bit better-

The door slams open, and Hyunjin is back up on her feet. She moves back out of Hyejoo's line of sight, but there's no time to be relieved or to even let a single breath out. The door had been opened with such force that Hyejoo is suddenly reminded of what she had forgotten.

If the throbbing of her head wasn't already enough, the web of time being pulled tighter and tighter.

She knows exactly what happened before the news is exclaimed.

"Ha Sooyoung and Kim Jiwoo were hit by a car! In the quad, I- I'm pretty sure they're not going to make it."

_The changing room erupts. Cries of shock and heartfelt questions as everyone tries to leave the room at the same time._

_Hyejoo stays silent. Her fingers were already by her wrist, but she doesn't jump when there's a movement from beside her. Cold fingers resting just on top of her own, as light as a butterfly._

_As the nausea begins to set in, time dipping from around her, she smiles. The presence of someone else beside her, even if it is just in her imagination, is soothing in a way she can't quite describe._

_She pulls._


	8. Two: Parachute Silk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is pretty short, but the next one will be even shorter so look forward to that

Her head is still spinning when she wakes up. She half expects to still be crouched behind the table when she opens her eyes, her legs still cramped and heart still racing.

If she really tries, she can still feel the ghost of fingertips at her wrist.

She shakes her head, trying to forget the feeling. It helps as she goes through the normal routine, managing to suppress all her fears and worries, focusing on what she knows it right. Her bag and the apple is exactly where they've been every single morning, the hair slide pins her hair away from her face.

The scissors are cold against her skin.

But she concentrates on that feeling as she walks to school, not even having to think about the words coming of her mouth until-

"Isn't class about to start?"

Yerim turns to face her, frowning. "I don't think so? We should have a few more minutes at least. Why?"

Hyejoo shakes her head. "No, you've got to get to class now."

"Olivia, what are you talki-"

Hyejoo takes a step back. Her eyes don't break contact with Yerim's, and she hopes that it's enough for the girl to take her seriously. She can't overestimate the amount of trust between them, not again. "Please. I'll explain later I promise. Just get to class now, and take Jiwoo and Sooyoung with you."

"Olivi-"

But Hyejoo's already walking away, forcing herself not to run back until she's about to enter the school building. As she turns, she manages to catch sight of Yerim dragging Jiwoo and Sooyoung behind her. Into the hallway, where they can't be harmed.

Safe.

They're safe.

Hyejoo lets out a breath she didn't know she's been holding. And then turns, practically sprinting towards the changing rooms in a mimic of what she did yesterday. The scissors dig into her side even more, but she ignores the feeling, instead focusing on cutting huge holes from the net.

_Snip,_ go the scissors in her hand,  _snip snip sni-_

And she knows when the players arrive the second before she hears the chatter from outside. She's already tucked behind the table, already tiling her head back and focusing on her breaths, already fully hidden.

And she stays that way until the last of the football players leave, someone slamming the door with enough force to make the whole room ring with sound. Despite the imminent danger being over, Hyejoo can't bring herself to move. Relief washes over her body- she's done it, she's managed to save Hyunjin's life- but there isn't any time to rest properly.

She has to move quickly.

The scissors are abandoned on the floor when she crawls out, the metal now useless. She doesn't need it digging into her side for any longer, not when she doesn't have any use for it. And it could raise questions if someone discovered it on her, questions that she doesn't have time to answer. So she pushes them away with her foot, kicking them into the very corner of the room where they hopefully won't be discovered for a very long time.

She has to try the door embarrassingly, knowing how it must look to anyone walking past. But she has to hope.

Unsurprisingly, it doesn't open.

But that's okay. She planned for this. The hair slide is between her fingers before she even has time to think, and she unlocks the door in under a minute. Her fingers move deftly, working around the stiff metal like it's nothing more than folding paper.

Hyejoo barely even needs to think about her movements. It comes naturally at this point.

She's been doing this since she was a child, though she really doubts this was the intended purpose for her skills.

There's a familiar click, and she pushes the door open, sliding the clip back into her hair and straightening up like nothing ever happens. One hand goes down to smooth over her skirt, and the other pushes the door shut behind her, leaving the changing room.

It doesn't take any time at all to find the classroom she's supposed to be in either, though by this time the bell has already rung and she has to apologise to the teacher when she enters the class. There aren't any awakened questions about where she's been, so she just sits down in her seat and waits for the minute hand on the clock to reach the right time.

Behind her, Yerim leans over, poking a pencil directly between Hyejoo's shoulder blades.

It hurts, and Yerim obviously wants her to turn round, wants Hyejoo to tell her why she left in such a hurry that morning. The pencil digs in a little harder, and Hyejoo can't help but feel slightly bad for the other girl.

But she still doesn't turn around.

She has no answers that would make sense, and she definitely can't tell the truth. So she has to ignore Yerim, straightening her back and staring directly at the teacher. Eventually, the pencil drops away, chattering onto the desk. There's an annoyed force in the action, the frustration of being ignored by a friend.

It's that sound that makes Hyejoo freeze.

Although Yerim's life has never been in danger, although she doesn't even have to be remotely nice to the other girl, Hyejoo still needs her. After this lesson, Yerim gets out early and tries to hand Hyejoo her bag.

How will Hyejoo know where to go is Yerim isn't there?

How will she know is she's in danger?

She may not have been killed at any point yet, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen.

No.

Hyejoo needed to keep Yerim close, make sure she was safe. Heart sinking, she turned round to face the other girl, already regretting every action when she saw the betrayal on Yerim's face.

"I'm sorry," she said, so,  _so_ quietly that she wasn't even sure Yerim heard it until the other girl frowned. The pencil was back between her fingers, rolling between them in a way to keep the pent-up nervous energy at bay.

"Olivia-" Yerim began, "Olivia, what's happening?"

Hyejoo could only shake her head. "I'm sorry," she repeated, feeling incredibly useless, "but you've got to let me explain later. Come find me after class?"

Yerim nodded, but her hand never stopped moving. "Of course, but-"

"You  _have_ to find me. I'll meet you just after the bell rings."

"Sure, but-"

"I'm sorry."

Hyejoo didn't wait to hear what Yerim had to say. She turned back around to face the board, eyes fixed upon the clock again. It's a few seconds later than the last time she left, and she curses. She definitely doesn't have time to explain, not if she's already late. Even a few seconds could make the biggest difference, and no matter how rude it seemed, she couldn't miss the timing, not when Heejin's life was at stake.

She puts her hand in the air, barely even waiting for the teacher to acknowledge her before making her way out of the classroom. She doesn't need to wait for permission, and hopefully it should buy the time she'd lost back, the extra few seconds she'd gained by not waiting for permission already incredibly valuable.

She makes her way down the same corridor, spotting Jungeun and practically sprinting past her. Jinsol opens her mouth, about to call after her, but Hyejoo is already late. "Sorry, I really need the loo," she yells, and doesn't stop running to even hear if they replied.

The noise from the classrooms becomes louder, and Yerim is behind her calling after Hyejoo and carrying both of their bags.

" _After_ the bell rings!" Hyejoo yells back, turning for only a second to wave at the other girl. The corridor hums with a kind of pent-up energy, and Hyejoo knows she's running out of time.

But she turns the corner, and sees the bag, and almost cries in relief.

Her hand wraps around the handle and pulls, and she's expecting the weight so it moves easily. The textbook falls from between the metal teeth, and she uses her foot to kick it away in one last burst of energy. It flies down the stairs, pages spread out  _like Heejin's dress, a pale angel falling from above and the blood on the concrete floor_ and makes a hollow sound as it lands.

There's just enough time to breathe out. To steady her legs, clutching onto the hand rail and trying to calm her heart. The nausea is back, swirling around her body like a tsunami and filling her limbs with lead. She can barely stand and-

"Heejin!" A voice calls, as the school bell rings and the corridor fills with people. There are bodies everywhere, all pushing, none even sparing Hyejoo a second glance, and then the voice rings out. The crowd grinds to a stop.

Heejin falls.

For a second, for a single terrible second, Hyejoo genuinely believes she's going to die.

But then time rips, like a sheet of paper held slightly too tightly, like the delicate tissue paper around the most delicate glass gift. It rips, and it changes, and Hyejoo's done it.

Heejin hits the floor, but she's up almost straight away, cheeks pink and ankle at a funny angle. There's the slightest smudge of a bruise already beginning to blossom on her right cheek, but she's blinking and breathing and that's all Hyejoo needs.

She doesn't need to stay on the stairs any longer, not when the football pitch behind her is empty. The grass is clean of stains, and the ball lies discarded in the changing rooms, less than a metre away from the heavy metal scissors.

The ribbon around her wrist tightens ever so slightly, cutting into her skin. It ties off her blood circulation, and she brings her other hand to it, massaging the sore skin. The fabric is still so soft, and the loose thread dances across her skin when she moves her fingers.

It dances, and for a second she almost forgets about every ribbon she's already untied. Every fraction of space and time she's cut through, wrapping herself in the leftover fragments.


	9. Three: Third Time Lucky

Yerim is waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. Her arms are crossed, eyebrows raised, and although she doesn't look particularly angry, she's obviously still annoyed.

Hyejoo can't blame her.

She passes Hyejoo her bag, and she swings it over her shoulder. The huge crowd of people around the staircase is beginning to disperse, and someone's carrying Heejin to the medical room. All that's left, all that shows that anything ever happened in the first place, is a small crimson stain on the tiled floor.

Yerim jumps over it as they begin to make their way to the next class. She doesn't ask Hyejoo to explain, but instead walks in silence. The sound of her shoes bounce off the walls of the corridor, too loud in the new silence. Each step echoes in her head. It's not long until she breaks.

"I'm sorry," Hyejoo starts, flinching as Yerim doesn't even turn to look at her. Her mind races for a suitable excuse, something that isn't quite the truth but remains believable.

It's hard.

Much harder than she thought lying would be, but then again, she's never really had any cause to lie to anyone before. And even then, she's never been the best at talking to people. Words don't come easily to her. She speaks in half-finished sentences, stuttered words and awkward smiles.

"I heard someone planning to trip Heejin up yesterday. I don't know why- really don't know why, but it sounded like they were going to do something horrible."

Yerim gasps. She can't help it, but her hand flies to her mouth. The facade of ignoring Hyejoo crumbles like shortbread, falling to pieces beneath the softest of touches.

"And?" She whispers, when Hyejoo doesn't immediately continue. The few remaining crumbs of her attempt on ignorance melt in her mouth.

Hyejoo's mind races, but she's managed to think up a slightly-plausible excuse. "I thought that I should tell Hyunjin, so I went to the changing rooms but she wasn't even there."

"The game was called off this morning," Yerim echoes.

"That's, uh, that's why I was acting so weird this morning. And I ran off because I wanted to try and move the bag myself. I couldn't just do nothing."

"The bag?"

"They put a bag on the stairs, so that- that she'd trip over it."

Yerim stops walking. Her head is tilted to the floor, hair obscuring her face. Hyejoo freezes, wondering what she's done wrong, until Yerim's hand grabs onto her sleeve. Fingers pale against the black fabric. "You did the right thing." Her eyes meet Hyejoo's, "You should have told me- but you did the right thing."

"There wasn't any time," says Hyejoo, but it sounds weak even to her. If Yerim notices, she doesn't say anything. By this point, they're outside of their next lesson. Pushing open the door, and being pulled into a seat at the back of the classroom. She has to assume this is where she's supposed to be sat, though there's a casual atmosphere that tells her that the teacher probably couldn't care less anyway.

The lesson ends up passing surprisingly quickly. Time seems to speed up, almost as if she blinked once and ended up missing the entire hour. None of what the teacher says makes any sense, nothing even vaguely staying in her mind.

Not that it needs to, though.

But by the end of the lesson, something is off. It's the same twisting in her gut, a familiar sickness, a heaviness to her limbs that she can't seem to shake off. Her head spinning, eyes unable to focus. Her fingers shake, palms suddenly clammy. There's a strange heat down her back even though the classroom is freezing, her clothes sticking to her skin with a feverish sheen.

Something is wrong.

But what?

What could possible be wrong?

Yerim is sitting right next to her, completely unharmed. As they leave the classroom, Jiwoo and Sooyoung join them, both trying to hide blushes behind their hands. Heejin and Hyunjin congratulate the new couple as they sit down to each lunch.

Hyejoo hadn't expected them to join them, but she isn't about to complain. She can't complain absolutely them being there, not when it means that she can keep an eye on them.

They're all fine.

Every single one of them, and Hyejoo has counted every person about five times to make sure that she's not missing someone.

And she's not.

They're all here.

All safe, no one in danger, nothing that could possibly-

Sooyoung's face goes pale. No one notices- not at first, because she's been quiet for a while now- but eventually Jiwoo does. She does, she frowns, she looks over Sooyoung's shoulder at the phone screen, and her face goes pale too.

Her fingers clutch at Sooyoung's beneath the table, and that's when Hyejoo sees the tears down Sooyoung's face. The way that don't stop coming, her cheeks pink, breath unsteady.

The phone hits the table, displaying the screen for all to see.

_'Sooyoung, have you heard? Some of your friends were in a car accident. I don't think any of them survived. I'm so, so sorry.'_

_Hyejoo doesn't recognise the ID of the sender. She doesn't recognise the car in the photo sent, or the tarmac of the motorway. But she recognises pale blonde hair in the background, and maybe she knew who it was anyway._

_Her wrist aches._

_She goes to pull, the ribbon cutting into her circulation it's so tight around her skin, but-_

_There's someone behind her. Standing so close that she can almost feel the fringe if her skirt against her back, the lightest of lace brushing against her jacket. She can almost see the hair, and she almost turns around._

_But she doesn't._

_She pulls, instead._


	10. Three: Gravel in an Open Wound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK
> 
> hope you enjoy this chapter,, it's strangely long for once
> 
> tw for a car crash (described in detail-ish)

The day practically passes in a blur, until she leaves the changing rooms after cutting holes into the football net. Hyejoo can't pick out a single moment that's even slightly different to any other day. Even though her mind screams at her to pay more attention, she can't find the motivation in her.

It's exactly the same as any other day, so what's the point in paying attention?

Surely, it isn't worth it. Not when she could be trying to solve every other problem, her brain spinning out of control. Not when there's more pressing things on her mind.

So she simply lets her feet take her where they want to go. Lets her limbs move on their own. She opens her mouth without thinking, and barely even registers the words leaving it.

She's heard them all before.

She shuts the door to the changing rooms behind her, listening for the click that signifies that it's locked. Then she makes her way back to the classroom she's supposed to be in. It's a walk that seems even shorter the second time, and before long, she's leaving the classroom just in time to run into Jungeun and Jinsol in the corridor.

"Did you hear?" whispers Jinsol, "Sooyoung and Jiwoo are dating now!"

Hyejoo nods, not quite trusting her voice enough to speak. It's a small motion, but it's obviously enough as Jungeun says "We made a bet a few weeks ago about when they'd finally get together. And we've decided that the punishment for losing it should be skipping school."

Haseul rolls her eyes, but Kahei looks resigned to her fate. She smiles at Hyejoo when she notices the other girl looking at her, wriggling her fingers as a way of greeting.

"The high and mighty Haseul and Kahei? Skipping school?" Says Jinsol, but her voice is distant.

Instead, Hyejoo waits for Haseul to speak. She needs to know exactly when to speak, exactly when to try and save their lives, exa- "Olivia, do you want to come? There's a spare seat of you're up for it. Otherwis-"

"I'll come."

They all look at her in surprise. It is rather uncharacteristic for her to interrupt someone, Hyejoo thinks, and she can already feel the embarrassment of all the eyes on her beginning to heat up her cheeks. But she doesn't stop talking. "I mean, I'll skip school with you."

Jinsol grins. "That's great! We can leave now, but where's your ba-"

"On one condition."

Kahei is the next to speak, surprisingly. "What is it?" She asks, taking a step forward and staring Hyejoo in the eyes.

She moves back unconsciously. "I, uh, have a test next lesson. Can we leave after lunch?"

Jungeun glances at Jinsol, frowning. "I don't know, that seems.."

"Please?"

"Olivia, it's just that-"

"She's coming." Haseul ends the debate that was just about to start with only a few words. The corridor falls silent as she opens her mouth, completely at her will and mercy. "We leave at lunch."

Hyejoo glances behind her, hoping for any sort of clock that will give her an idea about what one it is. She needs to hurry up. She can't afford to waste time. And yet she doesn't want to appear rude, to rush off and jeopardise her place on the trip.

But eventually the fear of Heejin, tripping, tumbling,  _falling_ , wins out. "I, uh, have to go to the toilet." She says, and doesn't wait for a reply, practically pushing past Kaehei in her rush to get to the staircase.

And not a second too soon.

She falls back into the rhythm of before easily, pulling the bag away without a single thought or conscious decision. Then it's back to class, back to sitting and waiting, back to-

Yerim.

Hyejoo watches as the lies come spilling out of her mouth, watching as the other girl believes them without even questioning her. How her eyes widen as Hyejoo tells the story, despite the fact that she's obviously lying through her teeth.

The lies don't get easier, Hyejoo finds.

It's strange, the way she still trips over the words. Everything else becomes easier with time, once happened so much easier to repeat. But the words still catch on her tongue, no matter how much she attempts to speak clearly.

She shakes her head, trying to free her mind from the clutter of thoughts begin to collect there.

Right.

She has a job to do.

They sit through the rest of the class in silence, Hyejoo's mind millions of miles away, full of ideas and half-thought our attempts at saving them. Her mind lingers with crimson, stained around the edges.

Then, she realises something.

The cramping feeling in her stomach is gone. The lesson passes without any pain, without any sickness and nausea, but Hyejoo doesn't trust the absence of the feeling. She knows that it's mostly down to the timing, that  _maybe_ they'd be fine if she didn't go with them. But she can't afford to take that risk.

It's better to be safe than sorry.

But she can't help but glance at Yerim beside her. The girl is working hard on the worksheet in front of her, hair tucked behind her ear to stop it from falling into her eyes, and almost half of the blank spaces are filled in with neat pencil answers.

Hyejoo's is just as blank as it was when it was handed out.

She can't help but worry about Yerim. It's a strange feeling, a weird tension in her gut that simply won't disappear. Although it's kind of sick, and she wishes that it weren't true, she hopes that Yerim is the next to die.

It's just... so far every person has only died once. And she doesn't want to think about not being there for Yerim's almost certain end. She doesn't want to miss it. She wants to know where and when and how, and she wants to be able to stop it so it can never happen again.

In a strange way, the deaths don't actually affect her anymore,

It's  _all_ the uncertainty.

That's when an idea hits her. A quick mental tally of everyone going on the trip, and Haseul mentioning the name Yeojin means that there's at least one seat free. Free for Yerim.

Yerim could come with them.

"Come on." Hyejoo says as soon as they leave the class. The other girl was about to call Jiwoo over and make their way to the lunch hall, but she freezes at the sound of Hyejoo's voice. Then follows, frowning.

Hyejoo can't help but marvel at the trust Yerim has in her.

She pulls Yerim through the corridor, weaving her way through the huge crowds of people just quickly enough that there isn't the chance for words to be exchanged. They move in silence, and soon enough, they're standing in the courtyard in front of the school. Just where Jungeun and Jinsol said they would be.

"Olivia! You made it!" Jungeun is by her side in an instant, swinging her arm over Hyejoo's shoulder and using her other hand to ruffle the younger girl's hair affectionately. She doesn't seem to notice how Hyejoo shrinks away from the physical contact, or if she does, she ignores it.

Yerim's hand doesn't drop from Hyejoo's arm. "Olivia?" She asks, fingers wrapping so tightly around her skin that it's sure to leave marks.

Jinsol finishes her conversation with Kahei and Haseul, and walks over to Hyejoo and Yerim, obviously catching the tail-end of Yerim's question, "What? What's happening now? Hi Olivia and, uh-"

"Yerim," says Yerim, and her fingers dig into Hyejoo's arm even tighter than before. Her eyes are narrowed at Jinsol suspiciously. Jinsol flinches back, obviously not expecting such immediate hostility.

"Okay." It doesn't take a genius to sense the tension between the two girls, and Jungeun obviously tries to diffuse the situation- albeit not very well. She doesn't know exactly what's going on, and they only fall into another awkward silence.

Hyejoo finally speaks up. "Uh, I was wondering if Yerim could join us? On the trip. There- wasn't there a spare seat?"

Jungeun and Jinsol glance at each other, hesitant to speak. They communicate through the look, but Hyejoo can't quite work out what's being said. That is, until Haseul finally joins the conversation.

"That's great!" She says, beaming and pulling Yerim to her side, "We can take, uh-"

"Yerim."

"Yerim instead of Yeojin! That way we don't have to go with her, because it gives us the perfect excuse to say no!"

Jungeun frowns. "Haseul, she's your  _sister_. Why don't you want her to go that much? Sure, she can be a bit loud, but it's not unbearable or anything."

Haseul clicks her tongue, shaking her head slowly at Jungeun like a teacher would to a toddler. "Oh, you think it's not  _unbearable._  Trust me-"

Her face has gone slightly pink, and she hasn't realised that everyone is leaning away from her, slightly scared of the older girl beginning to rant. Kahei places a hand on her shoulder, calming her down. "I think Yerim should come. I know a shortcut past some... more 'raunchy' shops that we can take if Yeojin isn't there. That way we'd be able to spend more time at the lake."

Everyone stares at her.

"I thought you didn't want to go?" Says Jinsol, completely missing the main reason why the rest of them are stunned into silence, "We had to practically drag you from class?"

"And?" Kahei smiles and shrugs, and then begins to walk towards the car that Hyejoo assumes they'll be travelling in. The rest of them follow her like lost ducklings, still in awe, "If we're going to skip class, we might as well have fun whilst we do so."

They pile into the car, and Hyejoo ends up clambering over the back of the seats into the very back of the car, next to where they've piled their school bags and various beach-going items that they got from who-knows-where. There's a spade poking into her side, and her elbow hits the plastic of a bucket shaped like a unicorn every time she moves, but other than that it's surprisingly comfy. Jinsol and Jungeun sit in the front, whilst the rest of them squeeze into the three middle seats.

The car engine bursts into life, and they're off.

It's only about five minutes into the journey that Hyejoo realises that something is off.

The familiar tension in her stomach, her gut curling in on itself.

Jungeun takes a left, the wheels on the car screeching in protest as she spins the wheel, and they're travelling down a section of streets that are, as Kahei had put it, 'raunchy'. Hyejoo tries not to look, cheeks burning at some of the signs outside of the rather run-down shops. The language on them is filthy, and some of the products displayed even filthier. She puts her head between her knees, trying to steady her breathing and figure out what was causing the sick feeling in her test, what she needed to do next.

It's the reason why she doesn't look up again until she's sure they've left.

It's the reason that it takes her too long to see the road that they've turned out into.

Because it isn't just a road.

It's a motorway.

And Hyejoo knows exactly what happens next.

She knows exactly when to turn her head to the left, just in time to see a huge truck spiral out of control. The driver grapples with control on the steering wheel frantically, but it's no use. One of the wheels catches on a car in the next lane over to them, despite every vehicle in the immediate vicinity attempting to swerve out of the way.

The truck stops moving, but only on one side. The rest of the wheels are still moving, and the main body of it is catapulted into the air, flipping over with the sickening crush of metal and what Hyejoo can only expect as bone.

Jungeun's foot had been glued to the accelerator, but the car in front of them swerved to the side, part of the roof of the car crushed by the lorry slicing straight through the glass as if it were a hot knife through butter.

In a moment of pure panic, she slams down on the brake, and their car screeches to a halt, spinning uncontrollably. They're thrown sideways.

The door on the front passenger side of the car doesn't survive the collision. It was ripped off as they crashed, and apparently it also took away part of the seatbelt, because as they spin, Jinsol flies out of the gaping hole left. Her body soars through the air for a few seconds, before landing completely still a few metres away.

And she isn't the only casualty of the movement. Kahei's flung into the window. Her head connects with the once-clear glass with a loud crack, and soon the window is coated with a deep coppery red. The air bag goes off too late, pushing her body backwards until it's pressed back against her chair. The faces of Haseul and Yerim are speckled with red.

Jungeun looks at where Jinsol used to be, and she screams. A loud sound that hurts Hyejoo's ears, but not as much as when Yerim's shrieks join her.

For a second Hyejoo thinks that it's from seeing the shattered skull of what used to be Kahei. Seeing the broken shards like the shell of an egg, or pieces of delicate china.

But Yerim's looking past that.

She's looking at the huge shadow looming over them. The body of the truck that had been flipped into the air crashing back down to earth. The metal is already stained, dark with red and brown, and the metal is crumpled beyond recognition. Not that it matters, as it buckles the roof of their car, flattening the metal without so much of a second though.

With them still inside.

_Hyejoo's fingers were at her wrist the moment she saw the motorway. There's bile in her throat that mixes with the remaining vomit that stains the front of her jacket and most of the car-seat in front of her. Her throat stings from where the seatbelt dig into it, an angry red line drawn across her neck in bold sharpie._

_The dizziness is almost to much, the horror of seeing the bodies in front of her, and for a second she can't find the loose thread again._

_She thinks she's going to die._

_But just as the roof of the car begins to cave inwards, just as the windows splinter into million of tiny shards of diamonds, just as the very tallest of the car seats tear, travelling white fluffy insides, someone pushes the edge of the ribbon into her hand._

_Fingers that are cold, but not uncomfortable._

_Hair that flashes in the very edge of her vision._

_A name, that sits on the tip of her tongue._

_She pulls._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel that i may have crossed the 'teen' line and gotten into the 'mature'  
> someone PLEASE give their opinion I really don't want to tag this wrong ahhhh
> 
> (i added graphic violence just to be sure)
> 
> love you all mwah


	11. Three: Overflow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only a few more chapters to go lads
> 
> tw for brief mentions of the car crash and drowning

She opens her eyes to the sound of crunching metal. The screams and crashes as the roof buckles beneath her head, throwing her arms over herself in an last attempt to protect herself. And then she actually sees what's in front of her, and tries to slow her breathing back down.

She's sitting bolt upright in her bed. The grey walls surround her like always, the curtains open and every single poster except one littering the carpet. But her body is drenched in sweat, her forehead almost feverish with heat, and she can't shake the image of blood drenching her body from the back of her eyelids.

Unlike every other time she's woken up, she can't quite shake off the day before.

It lingers around her as she gets changed, all the way through the day as she hides in the changing rooms.

It doesn't even leave when she meets Jungeun and Jinsol and Haseul and Kahei in the corridor. As they make conversation with her, and she  _sees_ that they're still alive, that she still has another chance. But the crash haunts her bones, shudders within her every time she soo much as moves. Crimson stains the edge of her vision.

She repeats what she said yesterday, despite the burning sensation in her heart. Despite the knowledge that it was those words that killed them, that their lives snapped like an elastic band that she'd stretched too far.

But as far as she knows, she was right up until then. The absence of sickness only proved that, and it was the same again as she sits through the second class of the day for the third time.

The bell eventually rings, and Hyejoo smiles at Yerim uncertainly as they leave the class. The other girl frowns at hire, but Hyejoo's already tripping over her rushed apologies, stumbling over excuses of promising Jinsol something, even though she doesn't think Yerim even knows who Jinsol is.

Not that it matters.

She's sprinting back down the corridor before Yerim has a chance to process the information anyway, waving through the huge crowds of people until she's standing in the courtyard in front of the school that's becoming all too familiar.

"Olivia! You made it!" Jungeun goes to ruffle Hyejoo's hair, swinging her arm over her shoulder. Hyejoo dodges. Her feet take her out of the way before she even has a chance to evaluate the consequences. There's a sickness in the pit of her stomach that reminds of of the blood staining the car, of glassy eyes and twisted metal. Cold skin so close to hers.

This time, the nausea that seems to be permanently lingering around her isn't from time travel, but instead the thought of being touched.

"Olivia?" Jungeun asks, obviously not expecting her movement.

Hyejoo simply shakes her head, hoping that the older girl gets the message. She never gets to find out, because right on time, Jinsol bounds up with a huge smile. "Livvy!"

"Where's Yeojin?" Says Hyejoo, completely disregarding the fact that Jinsol had just spoken, "I thought she was coming?"

Haseul rubs her temples, melting seamlessly into the conversation at the very mention of her younger sibling. "She is," she says, and her voice sounds sour, "She said she'd be here in a few minutes. She's late, as usual _._ "

Jungeun frowns, "Haseul, she's your  _sister._  Why don't you want her to go that much? Sure, she can be a bit loud, but it's not unbearable or anything."

"Oh, you think it's not  _unbearable._  Trust me-"

"I do know a different route we can take, if Yeojin doesn't come," Kaehei says slowly, placing a hand on Haseul's shoulder to calm her down, "There's a shortcut past some more... 'raunchy' shops. That way we'd be able to spend more time at the lake."

Hyejoo's heart drops. She can't let them go, can't let them die all over again. "No!"

They all turn to face her, obviously surprised at her sudden outburst. "We can't leave her!" Hyejoo says, and maybe the fates do want to co-operate, because there's a figure in the distance heading towards them.

A young girl, loud even as she approaches in silence.

Four- of  _course_ Yeojin was Four- greets them with a smile, completely oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

"Or not." Says Haseul under her breath, and they all head towards the car, Hyejoo practically dragging Yeojin behind her. The fabric of the other girl's jacket feels like a frayed against her skin, tearing it like thousands of tiny hooks, but she doesn't let go.

Not until Yeojin sat down.

Until Hyejoo is sure that she can't be left behind.

Finally, Hyejoo climbs into the car, clambering back over the chairs in the middle row until she's safely seated in the very back of the car. Again, there's a spade that digs into her side, and her elbow brushes against a unicorn-shaped bucket every time she moves.

And there's a strange feeling that surrounds her.

The walls of the car seem to press inwards, the seat pulling her into it and not letting her move. Every time she blinks, the roof seems to crumple, the door is ripped away, the car is stained in a bright coppery red. She can't tear her eyes away from the girls sitting in front of her, constantly making sure that they're there, that they're still alive.

The engine of the car starts, and she straps herself in, poking Yeojin in the shoulder when she notices that the younger girl hasn't. She's not taking any chances, not this time.

After only a few moments, they drive past the turning. Hyejoo can just about make out the same gaudy explicit signs from before, but they're gone just as quickly as she can make out the words. A bright flash of colour from between the grey rows of shops. She can almost imagine the car turning though, the screech of tyres and and spinning steering wheel.

No.

They're fine.

They won't leave through that exit.

They won't get hit by the truck.

They're fine.

Her heart is pounding embarrassingly quickly, and shows no sign of slowing down. She's pretty sure her cheeks are pink from worry at this point, and she has to physically work to slow her breathing.

They turn around a roundabout, and begin the journey down the same motorway as yesterday. It's only a few minutes down the road when Jinsol notices a huge cloud of black smoke in front of them. It colours the air with darkness, and the car is filled with the acrid stench of smoke and fire. The speed of the cars around them decreases substantially, and soon they're crawling past what remained of a huge truck lying by the side of the road.

The same truck as last time.

Hyejoo remembers this. The way the truck is tilted, the distant whine of ambulance sirens, flickering blue lights getting closer. There's a car- the car that had braked so suddenly in front of them- lying a few metres away. It's little more than scrap metal at this point, and Hyejoo can't stop the bile rising in her throat when she notices how still the driver is.

And where the truck has fallen. The same stretch of gravel that she knows is exactly where their car was. She can see Jinsol, lying a few feet away unmoving. The blood stain on the window, each one shattered like thousands of tiny crystals sprinkled across the road. The skid marks, barely visible against the tarmac, leading right up until the skeleton of what used to be a car.

"Woah," Yeojin breathes out, fogging up the glass from how close she's pressed up to it, in an attempt to get a better view. Her eyes are slight with a strange kind of fascination that makes Hyejoo feel slightly ill. It's so close to  _them_ being crushed that she can't help it.

Haseul nudges her with her shoulder. "Don't say that," she says, "Look." Hyejoo's eyes follow her finger, not quite seeing what she's pointing at until-

There's a body. It's not the first one she's seen, not by a long shot, but it's still a body. Most of it is hidden by the plumes of black smoke still coming out of the truck, but what is visible is enough to make Hyejoo look away immediately. Charred skin almost indistinguishable from the burnt carcass of the metal frame, peeling off in huge flakes of sections to reveal skin that's too red.

She spends the rest of the journey with her head between her knees.

It's a weird feeling, and one that she can't quite put her finger on. She's used to bodies, used to people dying in increasingly horrific ways and yet she can't even bear to look at the charred remains of the man for more that a few seconds.

When she began to turn back time, she would have stared at it without batting an eyelid.

Something's happening to her. She doesn't want to see any more people die. She just wants them to be safe, wants them to live through the day.

She's tired of watching them die.

The slam of a door makes her finally look up. With blood swirling around her head, she attempts to climb back over the seats. They're here. They're at the lake.

And it's beautiful.

The lake is huge, an open body of dark blue water that's virtually abandoned. There's a huge tree on the far left side, dangling its leaves into water, and the sun catches water in a way that makes the whole thing sparkle. Every bank is surrounded by sand, though Hyejoo isn't sure where it came from.

Beautiful.

She can understand why Jinsol and Jungeun wanted to come here so much. The two girls are shrieking with joy, pulling all the various beach items out of the back of the car and discarding them on the ground in favour of sprinting towards the lake.

Yeojin doesn't hesitate to join them, throwing off most of her clothes and diving in without a second warning. Haseul laughs, going to kick sand onto her younger sister's abandoned t-shirt, before deciding against it and picking them up, folding them over and bringing them back to the car.

"You not going to go in?" She says, gesturing to the lake. Kahei's joined the swimmers now, though her clothes are neatly folded and placed on a patch of grass nearby, in contrast to where the water is mere centimetres away from Jungeun's jeans and Jinsol's socks.

Hyejoo shakes her head. She can't help it. Her stomach is still tied in knots from the thought of the crash, and she's never been the most confident swimmer. It's safer if she stays on the side, where she can keep an eye on them all.

Haseul smiles, beginning to take her own clothes off. "That's fine, I'm not going to pressure you or anything," she pats Hyejoo's hair, before starting to back away towards the lake, "Just know that you can join us at any time, yeah, Olivia?"

Hyejoo nods, but her mind is already miles away. She stretches out her feet, digging them into the sand and not worrying about it getting into her shoes. In fact, she embraces the feeling by discarding her jacket, dropping it on the sand and letting the sun wash over her pale arms. She turns her face up to the sky.

The sun is warm. It beats down on her face, warming every inch of her exposed skin. The kind of heat that's almost uncomfortable, though she doesn't have to worry about being burnt. Her shirt sticks to her skin, hair plastered to her face, her tights rubbing her legs everything she shifts her weight.

There's a strange smell in the air, sweet in an unfamiliar way. The air hangs dense around her, humid and only getting heavier. It gets in her lungs until it's almost hard to breathe- she's so used to the filtered air of the room, where every single atom was measured and calculated until it was perfect.

She only opens her eyes again when her jacket is pushed back up onto her leg. The zipper pulls at her tights with its teeth, and the wind rips the fabric away before she can untangle it properly. Her tights rip, a sharp sound that almost echoes in her ears. And her jacket blows even further away.

It rolls down the slope towards the lake, and Hyejoo realises that it isn't the only thing that's moving. The entire car seems to be shaking, and her hair is being whipped around her face with increasing violence. In fact, her clothes are practically being pulled off her body with the force of the wind. The huge tree shakes dangerously, leaves tumbling into the clear water despite being vibrant green.

Eventually, she manages to catch up with her jacket. She's standing at the very edge of the lake now, the sleeve of the fabric dangling loosely in the water. A gust of wind almost knocks her over as she bends down to pick it up, and as she clutched it to her chest, she realises that the bad feeling is back.

The once sunny sky is now completely grey, and the colour is only growing darker with every passing second. The light grey is melting into something angry, a shade away from black. The wind only picks up, howling with a furious vengeance. Hyejoo stumbles forwards, unable to stop herself until she's almost leaning back into the air, several steps into the lake.

The cold water soaks through her shoes.

Distantly, she can hear someone yelling. The wind picks up again, and she's pushed forwards until she's standing in knee-depth water. Around her, what was once still is beginning to move violently. Each wave slaps against the back of her legs, spraying her with tiny drops that darken her skirt.

She can't step backwards.

There's a wave of panic as she realises that the wind is still pushing her forwards, and that the sand beneath her feet is too soft. It falls away from beneath her shoes until she's up to her arms, and being still pushed even deeper. No matter how much she tries, she can't go back. Her feet simply scrape against the soft floor uselessly, and the wind pushes her hair into her eyes until she can barely even see which way she's trying to swim in.

There's a crack of thunder, and the rain gets harder,  _she hadn't even realised it was raining,_ and the only sound in the lake is the screaming of the wind and relentless beating of the rain. And the screams.

Because as the wind picks up even more, as even their car is pulled towards the lake until it's wheels are firmly embedded in the water, the waves get higher and higher.

It's impossible to swim against them, difficult for even the most experienced swimmer to stay afloat for more than a few seconds. The water is too cold for anyone to survive in it, not that they'd manage for long anyway, not being able to breathe without getting lungfuls of water.

And Hyejoo realises that they're all stranded between the waves.

She doesn't know what to do. She's not strong enough to go after anyone- but she  _has_ to. She  _has_ to, she can't afford to let them die again, can't face starting over again. Not again, not when she thought she may have finally gotten it right. But she's pushed underwater before she even has the chance to attempt to move.

There's no sense of direction under the waves. It's dark, and she doesn't know where even the surface is. There's simply tumbling and tumbling as she's sent crashing through the water, spinning until the nausea in her chest isn't just time's vengeance. There's a tightness in her lungs that urges her to breathe, but there's nothing around her except water and sand, and when she does eventually breathe in, it does nothing to help the lack of oxygen.

Instead, she splutters and chokes, but there's nothing to splutter and choke against. There's nothing except water, and her head as it scrapes against the floor of the lake as she's thrown around.

In her panic, she realises that she's forgotten her one saving grace. The ribbon around her wrist, but she can't find it. She knows it's still there, she can still feel it pressed against her skin, but her hands refuse to come together. The water forces them apart, tugs them in every opposing direction possible until there's simply no energy left to fight against the blackness that seems to engulf her.

Then there's light amongst the black spots appearing in her vision. She swims towards it frantically. The surge of adrenaline in her veins is almost tangible, a feeling that leaves her slightly lightheaded, but with a renewed strength. She pushes against the current, finally managing to stop spinning. She pushes towards it, praying that it's the light, praying that she can finally,  _finally,_ breathe.

It's not.

It's not the light.

It's not oxygen.

It's Yeojin.

Her skin is pale, almost milky and practically glowing against the black waves. Eyes wide and milky, pupils rolled up into the back of skull until they were barely visible. Veins stark on her tiny wrists. Hair swirling around her face in a sickening imitation to what had seemed like a halo around Heejin. Lips pale, almost indistinguishable.

Her chest isn't moving.

_Hyejoo's wrists finally drift close enough together for her to feel the ribbon between her fingers. She grasps it like a life line, because in a way, she supposes it is._

_Summons up the last of her energy and gets ready to let the pale body in front of her drip into the puddles of discarded timelines._

_But she pauses, waits, and can't help the burst of familiar relief as she feels the presence of someone beside her that wasn't there before. In the swirling water, her hair brushes against Hyejoo's cheek, her arm pressed against Hyejoo's side._

_The closest they've been._

_The closest_ she's  _been._

_Using the last of her energy, Hyejoo pulls._


	12. Four: Once More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for mention of drowning, death in general, blood and a school shooting
> 
> well, this is certainly a cheery chapter

There's water in her mouth.

She almost breathes it in, involuntary, and immediately chokes. She's beneath the water and she can't breathe. Her lungs ache, her head spins from the lack of oxygen, and bile mixed with the water choking up her throat. For a second, she thinks that the ribbon hasn't worked.

That this is where she dies.

But then she's spluttering around the water, letting it dribble down her chin as she chokes and heaves for air. Desperately, barely even notices the tears that stream down her cheeks. There are black spots in her vision, and her whole body feels light. The bed around her looks so comforting through her blurry vision, and it takes all the remaining energy she has not to simply lie down and forget about the world.

She can't just forget.

She has to remember, because she has to save them. She can't just let them die.

Not again.

Not  _again._

She eventually manages to pull herself out of bed. Struggles through the day, every inch of her body aching with a sickness that she can't describe.

Every step is painful. Every breath send bursts of agony through her chest.

But she can't stop.

Even as she struggles simply to move without wincing, her mind doesn't stop. It runs over countless possibilities and solutions. She can't stop thinking, despite the headache that tugs at the edges of her mind. Despite the fact that whenever someone as much as brushes against her, all she can see is Yeojin's pale hand wrapped around her wrist.

Empty eyes looking directly at her.

She can see what remains of Kahei's head, Jinsol lying still a few metres away from the car, the metal roof slowly crumpling inwards.

The ball connecting with Hyunjin's skull with a dull thud.

Heejin tumbling towards the tiles, the crack as a halo begins to form around her.

A single blood stained flyer blown past the window.

Hyejoo feels nothing as she pushes Jungeun to the concrete in the courtyard in front of the school. She plasters concerns onto her face as she immediately darts forward to help her up, making sure to connect her shoe with the screen of Jungeun's phone.

She has a plan.

And it has to work.

"Jungeun!" Says Jinsol, practically shoving Hyejoo out of the way to help her friend of the ground. She pushes slightly too hard, or maybe Hyejoo's just too weak, because she's immediately sent to the floor. She slide backwards slightly, already feeling the burn as the gravel tears through her tights, and the glass from Jungeun's phone sticks into her thigh.

Tiny shards of glass, so small that she doesn't even think twice when she puts her hands in them to pull herself up.

Blood drips down between her fingers, but she can't bring herself to care. Caring about herself isn't in the plan, and it won't save any of their lives. Instead, she forgets about the pain. Shoves it to the deepest part of her mind.

"I- I didn't mean to," She stammers, baking away from where Jungeun is brushing tiny stones off her trousers, "And your phone- I- It's broken, Jungeun, I-"

Kahei places her hand on Hyejoo's shoulder in an attempt to calm her down. For a second, all Hyejoo can see is Yeojin, the car, endless stairs, and then she bites her lip, suppressing those thoughts. She melts backwards into the older girl despite every inch of her skin screaming, despite every molecule in her body being lit on fire.

She has to appear scared, apologetic.

She has to save them.

"I tripped- I didn't mean to break your phone- I-, Jungeun, I-"

Jungeun smiles at her, though anyone could see that it's slightly forced. "It's okay," she says, amongst Hyejoo's pitiful sobs and apologies. She nudges what remains of her phone with her foot, sighing when the battered metal object sparks miserably. "Olivia, it's okay."

Hyejoo lets her breath hitch once, before beginning to even it back out. Wipes away a few of her tears with the back of her hand. Sniffs miserably. She finally pulls away from Kaehei and stares down at her bloody hands, trying to keep the tears streaming silently down her face. "I didn't mean to," she repeats, sounding even more pathetic than last time, "Here, let me use my phone instead."

Because even if Jungeun's is broken, they still need a phone for directions.

And if Hyejoo can persuade them to use hers, she can make sure they never reach the lake in the first place.

She looks up at just the right time to make eye contact with Jungeun. The other girl glances down at where the remnants of her phone lie, before nodding once.

They pile into the car quickly, Yeojin banished to the very back seat without any debate. She complains the whole time, something about how there's a spade digging into her side, but is mostly ignored. Haseul very quickly tells her to shut up, and the car falls back into the familiar silence. The hum of the engine is just loud enough to block out any of Hyejoo's thoughts, and she manages to focus all her concentration on the phone screen in front of her.

She switches the screen on, thanking whatever god is out there that it's fingerprint locked, and plugs in the destination.

Or so it looks like.

In actuality, she pulls up Google maps, making the screen tiny and planning out a route that shouldn't seem to suspicious, but should sent them in completely the wrong direction. Her mind is already brimming with excuses about why they'd turn in certain places, until they finally get back to the school. Her hopes lie on them getting too put off by the sudden change in weather to attempt to reach the lake for too long- and then she can go back to making sure the others are safe.

As long as she times it right, it will be fine.

Everything will be fine.

"Olivia?" Jungeun asks, and Hyejoo begins her plan. She directs the other girl, waving away any suspicions with the mention of a crash on the motorway.

"I heard it was really bad- I think the lorry is blocking several lanes," she says, as the roof is torn from above her head and a dark shadow falls over the car. She shakes away the thoughts quickly, sucking her breath in and trying to calm her heart.

Yeojin nods from the very back seat. "Yeah!" She says, leaning over obnoxiously and shoving her phone screen into Jinsol's face, "Look! About ten people are already confined dead!"

Jinsol pales, pushing the phone away, so Yeojin takes to bothering Kaehei instead. She informs the older girl of all the gory details, as if it wasn't almost them trapped in the carcass of the car.

It's not them.

It's not them.

They're fine, Hyejoo just needs to calm down.

There's a flash of lightning that lights up the road in front of them- and Hyejoo realises that she hadn't even noticed how dark it had gotten. Despite expecting it. The rain beats down on the roof of the car viscously, thundering down until it's the only thing she can hear.

The rest of the girls voices are completely drowned out.

The wind begins to pull at the car, whistling through spare gaps and causing a cold breeze to be created. One of the windscreen wipers is almost pulled off by the sheer force of it, and almost as if the wind was directly aiming for them, a branch is ripped off of a tree a few metres in front of them.

It hurtles towards them, too large to just bounce off the windscreen. Hyejoo freezes, her hands useless by her sides, but before it makes impact, Jungeun swerves. The car tilts to the left momentarily before the branch slams into the wing-mirror. It's practically ripped off , only held by a few wires and scraps of metal.

Jungeun's face is pale.

"Let's head back," She says, and there's a muttering if agreement from the girls sitting behind her.

Hyejoo can barely hear it.

Her hand are frozen by her sides, body rigid against the seat. In her mind, she can see Jungeun. Impaled by the tree branch again and again and again. Blood soaking her shirt from around the wound, mouth in a surprised 'o'. The screams as the very tip of the branch poked through the chain and into Kaehei's leg, as the car spiralled out of control.

It had been so close.

And yet Hyejoo hadn't done anything.

She'd stayed frozen, watching as the world got smaller and smaller, as Jungeun got further and further away.

"Olivia?"

There's a voice at her side, a hand placed on her shoulder. Hyejoo jerks away before her mind has a chance to realise what's happening, and Haseul frowns at the extreme reaction. "Olivia?" She repeats, "You okay?"

Hyejoo nods, through her fingers are still buried in the seat. "Yeah," she says eventually, once her breathing's calmed down, "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... waiting until we get back to school."

"Well, we're practically here," says Jungeun, and it's true. The car is crawling along now, down what should be a busy road, through there's a strange absence of any other cars.

Aside from that, the school is almost just as they left it. The rain has started to clear up now, wind beginning to die down as suddenly as it had appeared. The loose wing-mirror is finally still, the incessant creaking noise fading into the background.

And yet there's still a bad feeling in Hyejoo's stomach.

It's worse than any other she's had before, taking all of her energy not to just curl up into a ball and sob until it disappears. Every movement she makes burns, every single part of her body burning with an invisible flame. The fabric of her clothes grate against her skin, the grazes on her hands aching with an indescribable agony.

Something's happened.

Something has to have happened, otherwise why would she be feeling like this? There has to be some sort of reason, but she can barely even keep her eyes open, let alone work out what it is.

Almost as if she's in the distance, she hears Jinsol say, "It's awfully quiet." The words echo and almost impossible to make out against what sounds like thousands of bees trapped in her skull, but she eventually pull her head up from where it's staring at her lap and frowns.

It is.

She can't see anyone.

And maybe that shouldn't be strange, but the courtyard has  _never_ been empty. Even when they were leaving, it was full of people. And considering it was lunchtime now... it just didn't make sense.

There isn't a single person.

Suddenly, the absence of the creaking seems to fill the air with something much louder than any sound. They're all on high alert. The feeling that something is incredibly off isn't just confined to Hyejoo. Even Yeojin uncharacteristically silent, though her breathing is loud and uneven.

Then Jungeun slams on the breaks.

Hyejoo tumbles towards for a second before the seatbelt catches her. It digs into her neck and makes her gag, but it momentarily distracts her from the pain in her chest. If it wasn't for the sound of the roof crumpling above her, for the flashes of crimson that stain the backs of her eyelids, she may have been able to say that she was completely fine.

"Jinsol?" Jungeun's voice is quiet and uncertain. Jinsol is right next to her, and Hyejoo almost wonder why she said her name, until she sees that both girls faces are as pale as-

There's a body.

Not someone she recognises.

For a moment, relief floods her body. She lets out the breath she didn't realise that she's been holding, realising her grip on the fabric of the seat beneath her.

It's the body of a boy, probably about a year older. His shirt is stained with a dark red that makes Hyejoo feel even more ill, and his hands are outstretched. Reaching for something, almost as if he was running in the direction that they were in before he was shot down by several bullets.

It clicks.

That something's wrong, that something's so desperately wrong that Hyejoo can't quite believe she hadn't noticed it before, not when there's a boy that she's never seen before in place of one of the twelve girls.

She puts it together before anyone else in the car even has a chance to realise what a bullet wound looks like in real life, and running towards the scene before anyone even realises she'd opened the door.

There are s few shouts behind her, but Hyejoo doesn't turn back. She runs, as fast as she can, to the body of the boy, to where the building obscures the rest of the scene.

The scene that she knows is behind the wall.

She turns the corner.

Of course.

In front of her lie around a hundred bodies, though it's hard to tell when the doors to the school are still closed. She can just about make out a few fingers trapped between the automatic doors, pale.

The ground is soaked in red.

Her foot hits a bullet, sending it flying across the silent field. There are more around her, shining in the sunlight. The light catches them at the right angle, and the whole field seems to sparkle amongst the endless blood-soaked grass. That isn't the only thing scattered amongst the bodies, though she doesn't want to think about it that much.

Tiny bits of grey gristle, parts of pink flesh that have been blown off from bodies that now lie metres away. She missteps, trying to avoid the crater of a girl's skull, and lands on something soft.

It practically sticks to her shoe, covering the leather with fleshy grey matter.

Something inside her twists, and suddenly Hyejoo's emptying her stomach into the grass.

There's a gun a few metres away from where she's doubled over, still clutched in the hand of someone who's face doesn't exist anymore. She doesn't need to see it to know what happened here, but it confirms whatever suspicions she had.

Jiwoo is dead.

Sooyoung is dead.

Hyunjin is dead.

Heejin is dead.

Yerim...

She can see Yerim. Closer than the other girls, but Hyejoo still can't force herself to take a step forwards. She doesn't want to see the other girl's body, doesn't want to admit that...

She failed.

That no matter how hard she tried, she failed. Her chest still burns, every pin she's ever misplaced in the stream of time being pushed into her skin, deep between her muscles and driven into the bone. It stretches her cells to breaking point, pulling her in every direction, towards every direction she's split time.

And, she sobs, her cheeks burning with shame and agony alike, she doesn't think she can do it again.

The numbness in her chest stretches into terror and spluttered apologies, half worded sentences that sound more like pleas for forgiveness than anything else.

She can't.

She can't do it.

She's tried, and there's simply no more energy left in her try again.

She can't.

_But her fingers are already moving, without permission from her tired mind. Fumbling for the end of the ribbon with clumsy precision._

_She coughs, and there's a liquid on her lips that costs her tongue. She doesn't need to see the colour to k ow it's bright red, bubbling up from the back of her throat and choking in trips from the corner of her mouth._

_It hurts._

_It hurts, and yet when she find the loose thread she still goes to pull it without hesitation._

_The field, so full of bodies, stays empty._

_Hyejoo remains alone._

_There is no blonde hair, no lacy skirts and cold fingers, because Hyejoo is alone and Hyejoo has given up._

_She pulls._


	13. Five: Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS ALMOST OVER LADS this fic has been such a journey i don't think im ready for it to be finished ahhh
> 
> tw: just a brief mention of how every death has happened so far in the book

It's surprisingly easy to leave the house without Yerim and Jiwoo noticing.

Hyejoo repeats every step as normal until her hand is hovering over the apple and the backpack is in front of her. Her fingers slide over the fruit, so close to picking it up and sinking her teeth into its flesh. But she doesn't. Instead, she turns, leaving her bag abandoned by the door and apple on the counter.

She doesn't need them.

The back of the house is just as abandoned as the front, and every room is just as identical. She doesn't pay attention to them despite her curiosity.

Furniture can only look so pretty.

Walls can only be so decorated.

There's only so many colours to cover up the grey of the world.

She jumps over the wall at the back of the house into an alleyway, kicking away a glass bottle as she lands. It shatters as it hits a stack of broken bricks opposite. The light catches the shards as she passes, sparking and glistening like fragments of tiny diamonds. Hundreds of tiny diamonds lying fractured.

She ignores them.

Yerim and Jiwoo don't see her, though she knows that she Micky have passed them at some point. She wonders at what point they gave up on waiting for her as she climbs the ladder up to the roof. Whether they really were just about to leave when she arrived, like they always insisted.

Somehow she doesn't think so. She has the feeling that they'd wait, maybe even until the first bell had rung and they were just scraping Sooyoung's body off of the pavement.

Maybe.

The ladder leaves orange on her hands, painting her palms the same colours as the leaves that are just beginning to darken, settling into every line and colouring the space just behind her nails. The metal is rough under her hands as well, and her tights catch on a jagged pipe at some point, leaving a huge ladder down her shin. It scratches her skin as well, white lines down her thighs, tiny red dots just beginning to bead up. Eventually, the shoelaces on her left shoe come undone, but it doesn't matter.

She pulls herself up onto the roof and leaves it.

It dangles down when she swings her legs over the sides, the hard plastic hitting the wall as the wind blows it. There's a few unidentified streaks, stains of mud from the dirty roof, and she can feel rainwater beginning to soak into her skirt.

And she sits.

She watches as the rest of the students arrive and does nothing. A car speeds along the pavement, wheels pinning out of control. She's slightly too far away to see the surprised look on Sooyoung's face, or the horror of the people around her as she crumpled to the ground. The tyres leave dark marks across her pale skin, visible from even here, and the sheets of paper around her are stained a deep, unmistakable red.

She watches as the body is stretchered away, as Jiwoo and Yerim arrive and bring with them innocent confusion. She doesn't need to be close to see Jiwoo's heartbreak, as the girl finally pieces together what the dark stain on the pale cobblestones is from.

And she waits.

Another bell rings, but she doesn't move. Most of the students still wandering around enter the building, none of them noticing Hyejoo. They don't even look up, but it's not as if anything would happen if she did. It's only one day, anyway. It's not like she'll still be there tomorrow.

She's not inside, so she can't see what happens to Heejin, and in a strange way she's thankful for that. The bell rings for the second lesson though, and she can still imagine her hair flying out behind her. The look of surprise the same, every single time. Right up until her head cracked against the tiles.

She also sees Jungeun, Jinsol, Haseul and Kahei leave school. There's a second where she watches and something seems wrong, a moment that twists her stomach into a knot, and then Yeojin pushes through the doors and sprints to catch them up. She watches them climb into the car and dove away, almost hear the music blaring from the tinny speakers. Every song that will play, and which one will never get to finish.

She hears the roar of the crowd, the football game underway. She hears the moment the screams turn from excitement to horror. She doesn't need to hear the sound the ball makes as it connects with Hyunjin's skull.

She feels the rain that soaks her clothes, washing away everything except the guilt on her skin. The wind that pulls at her hair.

She watches as the screams spread across the school, joined by the crackle of gunfire.

And she can't help the tears that run down her cheeks, uncomfortably hot and burning her skin.

There's movement next to her. It feels silly, but she immediately goes to wipe the tears away, before she even sees who it is. And when she does, her breath catches in her throat. She knows that there's no use trying to hide them, that whatever facade she tries to put up will just be torn down.

"I knew you'd be here," says Eleven.

Hyejoo straightens up. The other girl has always been so beautiful, so beautiful that it was almost hard to look at her without falling head over heels in love. "Eleven," she breathes. Her heart stumbles, trips, missing beat after beat until she's certain that she's flatlining.

And it crumbles as Eleven winces. "I prefer Chaewon," she says. And then she must have seen how Hyejoo's face falls, because she almost stumbles over her self to say, "But it's okay. I didn't expect you to know."

"Okay," says Hyejoo, because it's all she can think of. As soon as the word leaves her lips, they fall into a silence that's so different to the comfortable relationship they'd had before. Something's different, in both Hyejoo and Ele-Chaewon.

Something's changed.

Hyejoo isn't the same girl that she was when she left the room.

The same girl that she was the last time Chaewon saw her, back when they were nothing more than Eleven and Twelve, two numbers at the end of a long list of disappearances.

Before the months alone in an empty room, before the white walls had finally pressed in too far, before she'd seen every single person that she held dear to her killed.

Hyejoo didn't need to ask to know that Chaewon had changed to second she decided to leave Twelve behind.

Eventually, she looks up. Her eyes are huge, piercing right through to Hyejoo's soul like she'd never left, and her voice is quiet when she speaks. "Why are you here?"

"You left me." Says Hyejoo, though it sounds weak, even to her. Her voice wavers, all of the confidence she'd ever possessed seeping out. Chaewon makes her fragile. Breakable, nothing more than insignificant. She can't speak in front of the other girl, barely even able to make a single coherent thought when their eyes make contact.

Chaewon frowns, but it doesn't look like she's surprised. Instead, like she expected this.

If Hyejoo was expecting her to show any remorse, she was wrong.

"Why are  _you_ here?" She counters, when the other girl doesn't reply. She doesn't even make eye contact, instead staring at the ground below them. There isn't a hint of compassion in her eyes, nothing except the slightest tongue of resentment.

Hyejoo feels like crying.

Chaewon looks up, suddenly. "Do you know what the Room was for, Hyejoo? Do you?" Hyejoo freezes, wondering where this is going, but Chaewon continues regardless. "Do you know that they did? What they were training us for?"

There's silence.

She does know, she always knew and although she had though it strange at times, she doesnt understand what Chaewon's trying to imply.

They all knew, didn't they?

"I did."

"And so you knew they were monsters." Chaewon doesn't wait in delivering her words. She looks at Hyejoo as she spits them, as her beautiful eyes turn angry, "You knew, and you just didn't care."

"Chaewon-" Hyejoo tries to say, anything to defend herself even if she doesn't know what she's defending herself against. It's the truth, she did know, but it honestly sounds like Chaewon is trying to tell her that she's wrong. That she's done something, and that she should be ashamed for it.

"I'm sorry for leaving you, I truly am, but don't you understand? I don't know what exactly they are, but they're not the saviours you make them out to be." Her eyes turn soft between the harsh words, a moment of regret maybe. "Hyejoo, you were the only one who couldn't see the truth. You-" she winces, "Hyejoo, you seemed to agree with them."

Hyejoo can't reply.

She did agree with them.

But she thought that they all did, that they all understood that the Room was only doing what was necessary.

Except...

Except now Chaewon is telling her something completely different.

"Why are you here, Hyejoo?"

"You know why I'm here." There's no point trying to explain herself when Chaewon already knows. No point attempting to stutter or lie, not when she could see right through whatever Hyejoo could throw at her in an instant.

She's here to save them.

She's her to stop them from dying.

To prevent the endless Thursday from looping again and again and again, to stop the suffering for once and for all.

She's here to bring them back to the Room where they can be safe. Like they used to be, protected from the world until the Room decides that they're ready. Where she never has to be alone again, and they'll never have to die.

"You can't save them."

Chaewon isn't apologetic. Her words aren't soft. They're nothing but blunt, nothing like the Chaewon that Hyejoo used to know.

"What?"

"You can't save them." She gestures to the bodies on the field, the bullets shimmering in the light like tiny diamond hidden between the blades of grass, "You tried, and you can try again, but you can't save them."

Hyejoo shakes her head. She hadn't realised it, but she's leaning away from Chaewon, hands grasping at the concrete beneath her desperately. "No- no, no, I can, I just need to try harder, I'll figure out a way, they don't need to die, they-"

Chaewon's hands are on her shoulders. "You can't save them, Hyejoo. As long as you're here, you can't save them."

Between her splutters, the frantic tears begin to build up in her eyes, the heaviness of her limbs dragging her down, that's all she can hear. "What?" She asks. She doesn't understand- she  _has_ to be able to save them. She has to, so they can all go back to how it was before.

But she's only just realising what Chaewon meant.

That they chose to leave.

To leave the Room, to leave Hyejoo behind.

That...

They don't want to be brought back.

Chaewon smiles. She shifts closer to Hyejoo, and the other girl doesn't have it in her to pull away, despite every touch feeling like hundreds of needles being pressed into her skin. Their foreheads rest against each other, burning against the cooling air around them. "You're the reason they're dying, Hyejoo," she says, "You're here, and you remember. They can't live, not when you're still trying to change things. Don't you see?"

And Hyejoo does see.

Through the haze in her mind, the sleep that's been tugging at her bones ever since she began to turn back time. Every aspect of the universe trying to pull her back, trying to keep her away, to keep them safe, and she'd ignored it. Fought back, and killed them.

There are too many thoughts in her mind. An underlying buzzing, a static that lingers at the edge of every breath.

She's not meant to be here.

"What about you?" She manages to ask, though every letter is painful. Her chest is on fire, head screaming as time sinks its teeth into her flesh. It doesn't want her here.

She doesn't want to be here, anymore.

Chaewon brushes her hair away from her face. One hand cups her cheek, the other squeezing Hyejoo's hand with all the force needed to keep her grounded. "I gave up so much to remember. But I needed to tell you, I couldn't let you suffer." She's crying now, hot tears that run down her face and drip down her nose until they're mixing with Hyejoo's. She shakes her head, not enough to pull them apart, and sobs out, "I needed to see you again."

Hyejoo can't reply. Her mouth is too dry, and she doesn't think her voice would work anyway. Instead, she just cries, pulling herself closer to Chaewon. "Why?" She asks, between gasps for air, in the few moments when her mind is clear enough to speak, "Why couldn't you just forget?"

"You know why." Is Chaewon's only reply.

Hyejoo does.

She doesn't need to speak it to know that it's still there.

What exists between them is stronger than words could ever be.

Her mind is almost complete filled with fog now, a hazy mist that only numbs the pain that flares through ever cell in her body. Her thoughts are barely ciherent, little more than the word  _Eleven_ repeated again and again and again and again.

But there's also a new found strength.

She pushes away from Chaewon, her breath still warm on the shell of her ear, and reaches for the ribbon.

Chaewon's fingers wrap around hers. In a steady motion, she manages to fight back against the fire in her lungs, and tugs for the last time.

Her head explodes with an agony she can't describe. Time roars, but she's deafened by the choked scream of Chaewon beside her, as she's ripped away. As the world drops, taking Hyejoo with it. She tumbles through time and space, past every rip she's forced into the delicate material, every change she's made binding itself with searing heat to her skin.

The air feels like knives, but she can't open her mouth to scream. Trapped in soundless again, every pain that she's ever felt multiplied until ever inch of her body is torn in a different direction. Beautiful vengeance, ripping her apart until there's nothing left.

The ribbon falls to the ground on an empty roof.


	14. Conclusion: The Ribbon

She wakes up and rolls out of bed. Stretches, and smiles back at the posters that decorate her walls. One of them is slightly more torn than it was last night, and she frowns, confused for a second before she remembers that she threw a controller at it after getting defeated in a pretty humiliating way on League of Legends. It had been right before she'd gone to bed, well past two AM.

No wonder she's so tired now.

She opens her wardrobe and pulls on a new set of clothes. Just like normal, except when she goes to pull on her shoes, she falls backwards. She only just manages to catch herself in time, and ends up pressed against her desk, heart beating wildly. A nail presses into her leg, so close to ripping her tights and cutting into her skin, but it just missed her. She sighs in relief when she realises that she's fine, but it feels wrong. She can almost feel the blood tricking down her leg, even if her fingers pressed into her skin confirm that there's nothing there.

In the end, she just shrugs it off.

On the way to school, she walks with Yerim and Jiwoo like every other day. When they tease her, she throws barely-disguised insults back at them. When they pass Sooyoung, her and Yerim giggle at Jiwoo's red face, making whispered plans to get the two of them to confess soon.

Soon.

Maybe tomorrow.

There's too much to do today.

She's just about to enter the school when someone pulls her to the side. Grabs her by the straps of her backpack and drags her to the side of the entrance.

She opens her mouth to protest, but her words evaporate when she sees who it is.

The prettiest girl she's ever seen. Long blonde hair, frilly skirts, and the softest smile. Small hands that immediately drop to her sides when she realises she's still clutching the straps of her bag, a delicate blush colouring her cheeks. Almost doll-like in her beauty, and completely mesmerising.

"I'm sorry if I scared you," The girl says, and her voice is light and quiet. But it's okay, and despite her heart beating quickly, she shakes her head, words still escaping her. She hadn't been scared, not really. And even if she had been, she wouldn't want to tell the girl in front of her, wouldn't want her to feel bad. The girl grins in response, taking her hand.

"I'm Gowon. Are you Olivia?"

"Yeah," says Olivia, "I am."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and its over with a terrible ending
> 
> i want to thank everyone who left a comment on this fic because it made me so happy to see that people actually enjoyed this, and i want to congratulate everyone who actually made it this far
> 
> wow


End file.
